When the Thames froze
by Pinerug
Summary: Molly and Charles are gearing up for a significant Christmas full of the joys of family and friends. It's going to be memorable. Sequel to Operation Nyota.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! In spite of my best intentions to wait until this is finished before I start publishing (I don't know how you do it Greenstuff) I couldn't wait out.**

 **Another thing I struggle with is coming up with names for stories - it's harder than you think! As this is set at Christmas time I thought I would steal the title of a lovely Christmas song for no other reason than I like it.**

 **This is a sequel to Nyota, set about 3 weeks after their return to the UK. There's no big surprises in store, its fluff and fun and no angst in sight. I hope you enjoy it and don't mind me indulging my love of peripheral characters.**

 **Thursday 12 December, 2019**

A week before Christmas the clubs and pubs around Aldershot were doing a roaring trade. Office parties were at their peak, groups of people that wouldn't normally spend any time together outside of work passed their evenings making polite conversation over endless bowls of parsnip soup and plates of over-cooked turkey and sprouts. By around 9pm watches were looked at more frequently and babysitters started to get a mention as the more reluctant partygoers could sense that the end of their obligations drew closer and excuses could soon be made. By 10pm the numbers had dwindled and the drinking began in earnest. Ties were loosened, giggling groups of young women tottered back and forth to the loos as music got louder and tables were cleared. Clubs filled up with ease as middle aged executives took the opportunity of a night out to relive their glory days once again.

Graham Woodford stood at the bar, tapping his car keys against it in time to the beat of the music. He had put them on the leather keyring they had given him at the dealers, he reckoned if he flashed the BMW logo it would undoubtedly impress someone. His Christmas dinner wasn't sitting very well with the pints of lager he'd drunk so he decided that when he eventually managed to catch the eye of the young woman serving behind the bar he would move onto spirits. As he waited he surveyed the room, he could see the party from Guildford Plastic Mouldings had started to let their hair down, some the lads from the factory were chatting up a group of girls, and a few hands were beginning to wander. He took in the rest of the room, the dance floor was filling up with bodies as the coloured lights bounced off the sparkly dresses and crisply ironed shirts of the clubgoers.

Two young women emerged from the sweaty mass of bodies, giggling with each other as they made their way to the bar. Graham ran an appreciative eye over them, a tall blonde and a shorter brunette. They looked fit and tanned and he reckoned they must work in a gym or something to keep their figures so trim. He especially liked the look of the blonde, a bit older than her friend she held herself with confidence and her eyes sparkled as she threw her head back and laughed at something her companion had said. Twirling his keys around his forefinger and holding his stomach in he made his way over to them.

"Hello ladies" he shouted over the loud music "can I buy you two lovelies a drink?"

A look passed between them and they both giggled.

"No thanks mate" came the response from the short brunette "I think we can manage for ourselves" she spoke in a strong London accent.

"Come on, it's Christmas, what are you having?" he twirled his keys again and turned to the blonde.

"I don't think so, thank you all the same" she replied, her accent softer.

"Now why would two lovely ladies such as yourself pass up a free drink?" he queried, trying to remember the lines he had used 20 years ago.

"Probably because we are more than capable of buying our own drinks" came a rather curt reply from the blonde as she turned towards the bar, gesturing to the barman in charge of that section.

"Now there's no need to come over all feminist about it, you girls are too pretty for that. Come on, it's only a drink"

"Really. No. Thank. You. Now please, leave us alone" the blonde one took on a rather haughty look and made a half step towards him, causing him to stumble backwards.

"Jesus, it's only a drink you ugly bitch" he shot back regaining his balance and hopefully some of his dignity. The blonde woman, now back at the bar half turned towards him and looked him up and down "I don't think I need to be lectured on my attractiveness by a someone with moobs" she glanced at her friend who was trying not to make her laughter too obvious. She made a small nod towards the door "Come on Molls, let's find somewhere else"

* * *

Waiting in line at the coat check Molly was still giggling intermittently. She ran her fingertips under her eyes losing the battle with her mascara. "Are you sure you want to leave Zo? I mean, I reckon you were on a promise with that one" she burst out laughing again at her own joke, the memory of that man's face still fresh in her mind.

"Laugh it up now Dawes, just remember come Monday you're at my mercy" Zoe replied with a grin. "This is the last time I let you pick a club, how the hell did we end up here anyway?"

"You said you wanted cheesy, I asked the lads where was cheesy and they said here"

"Remind me to put them all on a charge next week. My choice now." She handed their tickets to the coat check girl.

"It's going to be like this all round, Christmas parties innit?"

"Are you chickening out Dawes?"

"Course not. So then where next"

"Well seeing as it's my choice I thought The Vaults"

Molly groaned and pulled a face. "What's wrong with The Vaults?" asked Zoe.

"Stuck up Rupert wankers"

"Number 97? It's pretty civvy"

"Yeah, because no one in the army can afford it"

"Well where do you suggest?"

"The George?"

"I've come out to spend an evening away from the company of squaddies, not join them"

"The Swan?"

"We always go there"

"Well yeah, because it's the only place we can agree on"

"Come on, let's go to 97, we'll call it a Christmas outing. Trust me, 2 cocktails and you'll be shitfaced." Zoe put on her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck.

"OK, but only two, I've got a wedding to save for."

A short walk later they arrived at a small cocktail bar and found themselves a table. Zoe fiddled with the olive in her martini while Molly sniffed suspiciously at the drink in front of her. "What did you say this was?"

"A Cuba Libre, or to you and me, a rum and coke"

"Why the wanky name?"

Zoe shrugged.

"Suppose it goes with the wanky music"

"It's just a bit of jazz, tuneful jazz if you ask me, my dad's into the stuff that sounds like someone dropping a load of cutlery in slow motion"

"So then", continued Zoe "you all set for Christmas?"

"Yep, down to Bath Christmas Eve, mum and dad's on Boxing Day then back home. You're coming to ours for New Years?"

"Definitely, I'll be dying for company by then"

"Why's that?"

"The folks are spending Christmas in Hong Kong so Toby decided to take his lot skiing. He's leaving the dog with me though, too tight to pay kennel fees"

"Cheeky bastard. You going to be ok on your own?"

"Yeah, just think, a Christmas off from all that family crap" she waved her hand dismissively. "I can clear the garage, catch up with paperwork."

"Wild" said Molly, widening her eyes

"I know"

"You should get out, do something for yourself"

"I'll be fine. I'm looking forward to the break"

"Hmm"

"I am Molls, trust me", she quickly changed the subject. "Right, hand me your phone"

"Why?" said Molly, passing it over.

"Because I'm setting the timer. You've obviously been dying to talk about the wedding all evening so I'm giving you ten minutes to get it off your chest. There, begin." She set the phone on the table between them.

"I have not been dying to talk about it"

"Yes you have, 9 minutes and 45 seconds. Has Margaret stuck her oar in yet?"

"We haven't told our families yet, I mean mine know he's gonna ask and that. Is that bad, I told you and I ain't told them?"

"What about Charles' parents"

"Nope. Not them neither. I kind of like it you know, as soon they all find out shit's gonna hit the fan. Margaret will be booking churches and marquees, Dad'll want us to do it at the West Ham ground, mum will just go on and on about how lucky I am or something"

"What about you and Charles, what do you want?"

"Charles says he's happy with whatever I want"

"Typical, it's his day too, he should be involved"

"He reckons he'd marry me in a bin bag in the bus shelter if that's what I want"

"Please tell me that is what you want, that would be brilliant"

Molly laughed. "No, a bit more special than that but not some ruddy great country house job."

"So somewhere between bus shelter and stately home. Looks like your dad might be onto a winner"

"Seriously though, I need to get something fixed in my head before Margaret tells me how it should be. Don't get me wrong, I love her and that, but she doesn't half scare the pants off me sometimes."

"You guys are paying for it, right?"

"Yeah"

"Well then tell her you can't afford whatever daft idea she comes up with"

"She'll offer to pay, I know she will"

"Still doesn't mean it's her choice"

"I know." Molly was quiet for a moment "Zo, I don't want you to feel bad or anything, but I don't think I can ask you to be bridesmaid, it's just Jade and Bella should be...you don't mind do you? I feel dead bad about it."

"Of course not. Besides I'm getting a bit long in the tooth for that sort of thing"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I still get to come, right?"

"Course"

"Perfect. All the fun of the day without being a magnet for all the pervy blokes trying to cop off with"

"Anyone touches my sisters and I'll rip their nuts off"

Zoe laughed.

"I know where these blokes have been. They ain't going anywhere near them"

"If they're anything like you Molls, they'll be able to handle themselves. So aside from the lack of venue and the strict no touching my sisters policy, any other plans? Got an idea for a date yet?"

"Well you might be able to help with that actually. We were thinking May or September. Any idea what might be OK from a work point of view?"

"None at all. Not even anything on the rumour mill. Just pick a date and we'll make it work for you, OK? Another drink?" she held up her empty glass.

"I'm ok for now thanks, you sort yourself out. Just nipping to the bogs" Molly picked up her phone and made her way to the toilets as Zoe tried to attract the attention of the barman to refill her drink.

"You do realise that Fingers will probably be there?" Molly announced with a cheeky grin as she sat back down. "that's not going to be a problem is it?"

"Not for me, and you know him better than I do"

"I don't know him like that at all, thanks"

"You know what I mean"

"He'll try it on again, you can be sure of that"

Zoe swirled the olive in her glass for a moment before glancing at her friend "what makes you say that?"

"You are textbook his type, he won't be able to stop himself"

"And there was me hoping I was unique" she said with an over-dramatic sigh.

"Sorry, he's been down the posh bird route before. It's his weakness. Or he's their weakness, or something. I stop listening after a bit." Molly took a gulp of her drink "That's the reason he transferred you know"

"His irresistibility to women?"

"Yeah" Molly giggled "He was shagging his platoon captain's wife."

"Hang on" Zoe sat forward in her seat "wasn't Charles his captain? You mean he shagged Rebecca?"

Molly spluttered into her drink "God no. This was after Charles, the one that came after him. Fingers and Rebecca! I wouldn't put it past him trying, she wouldn't give him the time of day though"

"Thank fuck for that, it was all getting a bit Kevin Bacon degrees of separation there for a minute" Zoe shuddered "So then, how did he end up transferring?"

"Well" Molly leant forward and whispered conspiratorially "He met her on base, they hit it off, wifey was feeling a bit neglected. They start shagging about, he was quite keen from what I heard, they started talking about making a go of it, her leaving her husband and everything. Anyway, she thought better of it and went back to her husband but not before he found out she'd been having it away with one of his platoon. The shit hit the fan, and the Captain took things out on him, Fingers threatened to blow the whistle and got a transfer and a chance to go for promotion in exchange for keeping it all hushed up. That's why he's in the Anglians now. Course, he's back to feeling like it's all catching up with him again, he was bending my ear on exercise about not being put forward for promotion."

"And is it?"

"I don't think so, he's jumping the gun as usual, but he does like to think he can run before he can walk" Molly tipped the last of her ice cubes into her mouth and crunched them. "Are we staying for another or calling it a night?"

"You just want to get home don't you?"

"Do you mind? Charles is away for the next few nights."

"Nah, it's fine. I'll call a cab. We can't be going home to a sure thing, more's the pity"

"I'm sure Mr Hairy c-cup back at the club would give you a second chance you know"

"Jog on Corporal" Molly stood to go to the toilet "Oi and give me that phone. I don't want to be waiting out in the cold while you're warming Charles up from the bogs" Zoe put Molly's phone in her pocket. "I'll see you outside"

* * *

Zoe sat at the kitchen table. The house was dark and still, the only noise came from the hum of the fridge in the corner. She sighed and lifted a glass of wine to her lips.

She stared down at the black screen of her phone, picking it up she swiped it to life, opening a couple of apps, closing them again without really thinking what she was doing beyond a bit of electronic fidgeting. Her thumb hovered over the contacts icon before she put the phone down again and refilled her wine glass. The phone screen grew dimmer and eventually clicked off, back to black. She continued to sit in the silence of the empty house, sipping her glass of wine, occasionally glancing down at her phone.

The whump and whirr of the boiler firing one last time for the night followed by the whoosh and clicks of heat working its way around the system before falling into silence roused her from her contemplation as she sank the last mouthful of wine and made her way upstairs. Pausing for a moment on the stairs she swiped her phone screen, opened the contacts tab and, with only the slightest of pauses, she pressed the call button.

Holding it to her ear she made her way slowly up the stairs. After what seemed an age the line connected and began to ring. She matched each ring with a tread on the stairs, nearly at the top of the second flight before it picked up. There was a brief moment of silence when she thought it had gone to voicemail before a bleary voice spoke.

"Who the fuck is this? Do you know what time it is?"

She took a deep breath, poised at the top of the stairs "Rob, it's Zoe"

There was silence. She heard breathing and a rustling of bedclothes.

"Zoe" she said "Erm Captain..." her words trailed off in humiliation.

"I know." came the reply

Zoe leaned against the wall, partly relieved hadn't had to identify herself any further and partly to try and quell the anxiety that was growing inside her. What the fuck did she think she was doing?

"What are you up to?" she asked cringing at the lame question she'd just asked.

"I was sleeping, like normal people do at..." his voice becoming distant as he checked the time "02:00"

"Shit. This was a bad idea"

"Maybe. You haven't told me what the idea is yet"

She swallowed, her mouth dry and tasting of nerves and wine, the moment stretching out as she tried to remember what she was going to say.

"Well?" the voice over the phone took on a teasing tone, she could picture his cocky grin and could imagine he was enjoying her embarrassment.

"I was wondering if you'd recovered"

"From what?"

"Training"

"You're right, this was a bad idea. I had my debrief weeks ago" he yawned "in the daylight"

Zoe grinned, her confidence returning "So would you say you're fully debriefed then?"

He caught her change of tone and gave a short laugh. "Fully."

"Don't you think we should be a little more thorough? In the spirit of combined forces working, obviously."

"Did you have anything specific in mind, Captain?"

"We could start with a detailed performance review. If you like." she sat on the edge of her bed "there are some manoeuvres that I feel need revisiting"

"Will this be a 360 degree review?"

"Absolutely. I think you'll find I'm fully behind CPD"

"Fucking A"

 **A/N**

 **I haven't been in a nightclub in 15 years, can you tell? Too many nights out around the Graham Woodfords of this world shudder groping my arse and gawping at my tits. I'm strictly in the make your excuses and leave by 10 camp, or better still just don't go out. Still I did look up nightclubs in Guildford for research purposes and once I got past the desire to flay my own skin off I amalgamated a few with my own experience and then scrubbed my imagination clean with wine.**

 **So where next? What does a Dawes/James Christmas look look like? Who is Zoe calling? Will her dodgy sounding plumbing limp on to heat another day or will it turn into confessions of a plumbers mate? All will become clear soon….**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sunday, 22 December**

"Big Mac and a strawberry milkshake in the same mouthful? That's gross" Molly wrinkled her nose and pulled a face.

"It's great, like pudding and main all in one bite"

"Grim. That's what you are" she dipped a chip into the puddle of sauce in the corner of the burger box. "So, how's it been the last few weeks of term?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders, stealing a chip from her "alright"

"Your report ok?" Molly asked slapping his hand away as he went in for more chips

"Suppose" he took a sip of his drink, shuddering as he swallowed the cold pink liquid.

Molly sighed in exasperation. She wondered how the once a chatty 10 year old had managed to turn into the monosyllabic 13 year old sitting over from her.

This was their thing, their secret ritual away from Charles and Rebecca. Whenever Molly picked him up from school or his mum's they would stop off for a McDonald's on the way home; fast food was not considered suitable by either of his parents. This Christmas, as with most in the last few years, Molly had picked him up from his Mum's, Charles being away from home with work.

"Your mum seemed well, at least better than when I saw her last."

Sam shrugged again "Yeah. She's stopped puking and making us eat in the garden, so that's something"

"She made you eat in the garden?"

"Said she couldn't stand the smell of the food. All half term John and I had to eat our dinner in the garden or go out. She's fu… bloody mental"

"Oi, less of that and less of the bloody too. Poor thing, that must be horrible."

"Don't take her side"

"This ain't about sides Sam, that sounds well bad. My mum could never stand the smell of eggs when she was expecting. I remember Nan coming over to help when I was about your age, she'd got a load of them cheap from somewhere, decided to to cook a fry up for dinner. Poor mum had to sit on the swings in the park for an hour while we opened the windows to get rid of the smell. Dad went mental, saying we were letting all the heat out."

"It's so embarrassing Molly. You should have seen her at the carol service. Everyone else's mum looked normal, mine looked like a beached whale."

"Come off it, she's barely showing, and she's not doing it to embarrass you. She ain't going to sit at home for 9 months." She swirled the ice in her drink "I hate to say it mate, but that's the deal with being the oldest, you have to live with it. My mum was pregnant with Martin when I was 18, not that I didn't know about it all anyway, I mean the doors in that place are thin, that's when they even bothered to close them. Your mum and dad had you young, you're gonna have to expect brothers and sisters."

"Oh shit, not you as well" Sam looked at Molly with wide eyes.

"Oi, less of the language" Molly scolded him, feeling slightly ridiculous for it "but yeah, your dad and me might have kids one day and they ain't getting dropped down the chimney by a stork. Still, as your step mum I suppose I don't have to come visit you or nothing. You can just pretend I don't exist."

Sam looked down at his food, the squashed layers of meat, bread and yellow cheese holding a level of fascination he had never considered before. Deep down he knew he was being unfair to Molly. He liked her, he really did, she had always been a laugh, sticking up for him when his dad's demands got too much and soothing the cracks between Charles and Rebecca. He knew she was younger than Dad, and he always seemed less serious when she was around. He loved her family, so different from everyone else he knew at school. Her brothers, Liam and Jack were close to him in age but possessed a coolness that he could only long to emulate.

"Sorry" he mumbled into the squashed remains of his burger

Molly sighed. "Look I know this ain't easy for you. None of it is, but we ain't doing this to punish you. OK?"

She looked across at Sam, still apparently fully absorbed by the greying burger and lurid coloured cheese in his hands. He made an indistinct grunting noise which Molly took as a signal that the conversation had run its course and they sat in silence as they finished their food.

Making their way across the windswept car park the atmosphere between them seemed to relax a little, they joked with each other, Sam teasing Molly over their increasing discrepancy in height. He had officially overtaken her a few months ago and showed no sign of stopping. He make a great show of being able to stand on tiptoe and look down at the top of her head. Molly took it in her stride, happy that the awkward conversation of earlier had now been forgotten, or at the very least, moved on from.

They both clambered into the car, relieved to be out of the biting wind, and Molly started removing her coat, hat and gloves while Sam fiddled with the car stereo.

"Oi, don't go messing up my pre-sets" she warned him as he tuned away from Radio 1 to another station. Sam listened to the music, and after a few seconds declared it to be 'crap' before flicking through the settings. "Why have you got Radio 2 and 4 on this?" he asked "Your ruddy Dad borrowed my car when I was away. First day back to work I turned it over to find the petrol gauge on red and some bloke wittering on about thought for the day. Nearly drove the car into the garden wall I was stabbing at the buttons so much. I ain't got round to changing them back. Here leave it on that will you, I want to hear the football results."

They sat in silence for a few minutes listening to the roll-call of results being read out, Molly waiting to hear the West Ham result, a 4-0 washout against Aston Villa. "Bugger" she cursed under her breath, changing gears more forcefully than necessary as she put her foot down to join the dual carriageway. Almost on cue her phone beeped from inside her handbag. Sam leant down to pick it up, glancing at the screen "Someone called Dangles says you're a fucking cockney loser"

Molly slowed the car to below the speed limit before responding "Tell him to take his poxy nonce team and shove it where the sun don't shine." Sam tapped diligently at the screen "How do you spell 'nonce', oh never mind, the auto correct got it" he pressed send. 20 seconds later the phone pinged again. "He says 'pay up you whining southern poof', or at least I think that's what he means, he spelt poof funny. Dad says I shouldn't say poof. That it's derogatory"

"Yeah well don't listen to what he says when he hears the rugby results come in. What was that, Bath 17 Saracens 28? He's not gonna like that."

"How did Gloucester do?" Sam fiddled on Molly's phone pulling up the sport fixtures "They were playing Bristol. Yes. Killed them. Excellent" he fished in his pocket drawing out his phone, the next 20 minutes taken up with messages flying back and forth between him and as far as Molly could make out two or three of his friends. They were almost home before he looked up long enough for Molly to engage him in conversation again. "What do you fancy doing tonight? We could watch a DVD or just see what's on tele? I'm gonna need some help to put the Christmas tree together if we're gonna decorate it with your Dad tomorrow."

"Why do you even bother with a tree Molly? I thought we were off to Granny and Grandad's Christmas Eve. We won't be back till after Christmas."

"I know, but it just don't feel like Christmas time without a tree, and I want one in my house and all you know. It's never gonna be a special as your Granny's though." _It's never going be as expensive nor colour coordinated neither_ she felt like adding, but kept her mouth shut, deciding that tact was the better route to take when it came to discussing her in-laws.

* * *

The doorbell rang continuously for 20 seconds, there was a five second gap before it rang again for another 20. Zoe rolled her eyes to the ceiling before she stood up from her desk to answer it, closing the door to her study behind her as she went. She could make out a stout figure in MTP fatigues through the glass of the front door.

"Grow up, Toby" her attempt at withering sarcasm was ruined by a fat Labrador yelping and jumping at her in excitement.

"Nice to see you too, sis. Jess, down!" Toby snapped ineffectually at the lead as the dog kept on whimpering and skipping about on the spot. "Here, take the dog while I get her crap from the car." He handed her the lead which she unhooked from the dog's collar as she knelt to stroke her. Soon satisfied by her greeting the dog wandered off towards the kitchen with Zoe following after her to check she hadn't left any food out.

"You can put the bed down there by the table" Zoe said, taking the bag of bowls and food from her brother. "You didn't bring the girls?" she asked him.

"They would only get under my feet" he said dismissively

"I would have liked to see them before Christmas, and I'm sure Cecille would have liked a break"

"Well they were watching some disney princess thing and you know you can't tear them away from all that. Jess, bed" he tried to order the dog. She ignored him, her tail thumping against the tiled floor as she stared at the bag of food on the counter, a small puddle of drool pooling at her feet. "Bloody mutt, never listens to a word I say"

"Tea?" asked Zoe turning to the kettle to hide the smirk on her face.

"OK, but I've got to get back pronto. All the food and her tablets are the bag and I think Cecile e mailed something over about her routine."

"I _can_ look after a dog Toby"

"Really, because last time Jess came back from yours she slept for a week and ate us out of house and home"

"Well that's because I fed her the recommended amount for a dog her size and gave her some proper exercise." Zoe replied "Look at her Tobes, she's almost as fat as you" she couldn't resist the dig at her brother and his rapidly expanding waistline.

Toby slapped his belly "It's all muscle"

"Bollocks, it's about 80% beer by the looks of it. This is what a desk job does for you. How many times have you been to the QM for new kit in the last 6 months?"

"Probably not as many times as you've been to your major covering your arse over this Harris debacle" Toby shot back

"Touche" Zoe busied herself with the tea and waited for the inevitable crowing from her brother

"This is what happens when you spend all your time chasing after the rank and file sis. You drop the ball on your junior officers at your peril. I would have thought you would have grown out of your hard-on over soldiers by now, you've certainly worked through enough of them."

"Piss off Tobes. I'm not justifying myself to you."

"Well you're going to have to justify it to someone and they aren't going to be soft on you. This is someone's career you've scuppered."

"Actually, it's two people's careers on the line, and my sympathies lie with the more junior of them. She made a misjudgement, his actions look to be much more deliberate than hers."

"Bloody women, always closing rank"

"I'm not discussing this with you Toby. I hold my hands up to my fuck ups and I will be answering to them in due course. Don't forget that the rumour mill works both ways and I've kept my trap shut about you and your infantry escort, or is she just 'escort' now?" it was a cheap shot and Zoe knew it, but she needed to deflect what Toby was throwing at her.

Toby slammed his half full tea mug on the counter "I'm not staying here to listen to this. I'll be back before New Year for the dog. Maybe you should listen to your family for once in your life, find yourself a decent bloke who you can stand up in public with without their knuckles dragging on the ground and you won't be on your own over Christmas." without saying goodbye to Jess he turned and stormed off towards the door.

"Take the girls' presents with you and don't let the door hit you on the arse on your way out" Zoe yelled at her retreating brother. The front door slammed in response.

"That went well don't you think, Jess?" she addressed the dog who thumped her tail on the floor again and carried on gazing at the bag of dog food on the counter.

"Let me put this somewhere safe and we can get started on doggy boot camp." she stashed the food in a high cupboard. "I need a long run to work off my little visit from brother dearest."

* * *

 **Monday, 23 December**

"Sam!" Molly shouted up the stairs for what seemed like the hundredth time "Sam! You out of your pit yet?" There was no noise from upstairs to suggest he was even awake. She scrabbled in the sideboard drawer looking for a post it and pen, and scribbled a note to him wondering where to put it. In the end she ran up the stairs putting one on his bedroom door and another on the bathroom before heading out for her run.

Forty minutes later she was back and the house looked unchanged, she was about to yell upstairs again when she noticed the milk carton sitting out on the side. Making her way through to the kitchen she saw that a bowl had been left by the sink and the cereal packet left out. When she got to the living room she found Sam slumped on the sofa engrossed in his phone.

"Morning"

"Yup"

"I see you had breakfast"

"Uh-uh"

"Ok then" Molly tried a bright and engaging tone "I'm gonna nip up to the shower and then shall we head out?"

Sam looked up briefly "what?"

"Shall we get going after my shower? You said yesterday that you wanted to go into town for something"

"Oh yeah" he paused before continuing "can't I go by myself?"

"I need to pop in and get a few bits as well so I thought we could go together" she watched as the expression on Sam's face made it very clear that this was one of the worst things she could have suggested. "Jesus Sam, it's just a bus ride, I don't expect you to follow me round the shops."

"Can't we take the car?"

"This close to Christmas? No chance."

"Buses are crap Molly"

"Fine you can walk in then" Molly turned and made her way up the stairs "and put your breakfast things away please"

Standing in her bedroom she took a series of long breaths, calming the temper that rose up within her. She felt ridiculous telling Sam he couldn't go to town by himself, but she wasn't his parent; she didn't get to make the rules, she just had to enforce Charles and Rebecca's wishes in this situation. When she thought of the things she got up to and the places she got up to them in at his age she could see why he was so frustrated. She would listen to the stories of petty rules and disciplines from boarding school that he seemed to swallow without protest or even a desire to push against them just a little bit and wonder how on earth he was going to get on in life. Molly knew that she had come to the idea of discipline and order later than most, and not very deep within her the Molly of old still exerted an influence. She had little time for the pomp and ceremony that came with army life and didn't take the regimental window dressing with any sort of seriousness that Charles insisted it demanded. She would dearly love to sow some seeds of dissent in Sam, despite her frustrations at his inevitable decline into teenage moodiness he was on the whole an unfailingly polite and well behaved boy. She longed to see some spark of rebellion or recklessness, but he seemed to bear most of these rules and regulations with little more than a pouty lip and quiet resignation.

She let the shower wash away the worst of her frustrations, there were only a few more hours before Charles would be back and she could let him handle this sort of thing. As she dried and dressed herself she wondered what would be different for her and Charles' children. Having these conversations with Charles usually made him focus primarily on the process of making the babies, which was of course part of the fun, but the bringing up of children was also one more arena where the differences in their expectations were thrown into stark contrast. She had already insisted that no child of hers would be sent away to school; she didn't care how many generations of James children had apparently thrived being brought up away from their parents, she wouldn't even consider it. As she had mentioned more than once to Charles, she failed to see how a childhood in an institution set you up for anything else in life than being part of more institutions.

She ran a hairdryer briefly through her hair to take away the worst of the dampness, applied a coat of mascara and a slick of lipstick and looked down at the packet of small pills sat on her dresser. Each tablet numbered one to eighteen were popped out of the blister pack, number 19 waiting to be taken this morning. She stared at the packet for a few minutes, thinking about the repeat prescription waiting for collection at the pharmacy today. The events of the last few weeks had caused her to pause over this part of her daily routine for a good ten days now. She was still undecided about what to do but found herself automatically popping the tablet from its packet and swallowing it down, her subconscious answering for her.

By the time she got downstairs Sam had of course tidied away his breakfast things, and was waiting with the nearest thing to an apology that she was going to get. She longed to reach out and give him a hug, but he was pretty insistent that he didn't 'do' physical affection these days, so instead she threw one of Charles' hats at him and told him to get ready to go out. They walked quickly to the bus stop, the cold was starting to bite but luck was on their side and a bus pulled up just as they approached the stop. As Molly paid their tickets Sam loitered by her side "Where do you want to sit?" he asked.

"Anywhere. You choose."

Sam walked to the back of the bus, removing his hat as he went and plonking himself on the rear seat. The trademark James' curls were ruffled from the action and Molly noticed a girl, probably about his age glance up from her phone as he walked past. She smiled to herself, making her way over to join him. "Here's your ticket" she passed him the flimsy slip of paper. "I'm gonna get off the stop before town, I've got a couple of things to do first, but if we meet up in town later we can meet your Dad at the station. See if he fancies taking us out for lunch if you like"

"Really?"

"Course. You're old enough to go round the shops for a few hours by yourself. Unless you fancy queuing in the chemists with me for tampons"

Molly watched as Sam turned a bright shade of beetroot and fleetingly felt guilty for deliberately embarrassing him. She nudged him with her shoulder "Only joking mate" she reassured him "I'll see you outside the Wellington Centre at 12:45, then we can walk down to the station together. Do you know your stop?"

"Yeah. Thanks Molls"

"12:45 remember. You got your phone on you?" Satisfied that she had covered all bases Molly pressed the bus stopping button and prepared to get off at the next stop. It would be an extra 10 minutes walk, but she had time to kill and it was worth it to see the look on Sam's face "Don't do anything I wouldn't" she gave him a wink before making her way to the front of the bus.

* * *

Charles' train limped slowly into Aldershot station. It was busy, packed with shoppers returning from London and people travelling for Christmas. The aisles were full of suitcases and shopping bags, tired travellers and fractious children grumpy and overheated in layers of coats and clothing. He was feeling weary and ready for his break to begin. He had been away for nearly a week and he longed for the comfort of his own house and the company of Molly and Sam. He had been standing all the way through London and out from Waterloo and his leg was getting tired, the old injury niggling as he kept his balance on the swaying train.

When they finally arrived he grasped his case in one hand and waited for the crush of people exiting the train to clear before helping a woman with a pushchair lift it down to the platform. She thanked him profusely whilst hooking her shopping bags onto the handles but he dismissed her "No bother, I've been there myself" as he looked fondly down at the sleeping toddler inside bundled up under a blanket "have a good Christmas" he gave her a tired smile and set off to the exit.

Just as she had said in her text Molly and Sam were waiting out the front of the station, he hugged Sam close, marvelling silently to himself how he had grown even more in the few weeks since he'd seen him last. Letting him go he leant down to Molly, kissing her cheek. "He's only pleased to see you cause I beat him when you're not here" she gave him a wink and a grin.

"As if!" Sam exclaimed "I could take you no problems"

"Dream on sunshine" playful banter batted batted back and forth between them and Charles watched them fondly, thanking his good luck that Molly had taken on Sam so effortlessly.

"Dad, Molly reckons we can go out for lunch. Where do you want to go?"

Charles groaned, weeks of living in hotel rooms and eating in cheap chain pubs had taken their toll "Can't we just go home? I'm dying for something simple" he took in the look of disappointment on Sam's face. "How about we get a takeaway tonight instead?"

Sam wavered "Can I choose?"

"Yes, anything. Let's just get home. Is that ok with you Dawsey?"

Molly shrugged "Sure. The bus will be along in ten minutes"

"Didn't you come in the car?"

"And pay parking? What is it with you two? Too good for public transport or something?"

"I'm knackered Molls"

"And you'll get a lovely sit down at the bus stop so stop complaining" she set off in the direction of the bus shelter. Charles picked up his bag and turned to Sam "I guess that's us told"

* * *

Zoe's heart rate was just about returning to normal. The cold air of her bedroom prickled against her skin, flushed and clammy with sweat. Somewhere in the jumble of her duvet she could hear his voice.

"Oi, are you still there?"

Reaching out her hand she felt for her phone finally finding it deep within the scrunched up covers. She brought it up to her face, bringing him back into view again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop you"

"I missed the best bit. You're going to have to do that again"

"Today? You've got to be kidding me"

"No bloody stamina you"

"Sorry I took ages. I found the background a bit off-putting"

"What do you mean?"

"Come off it Rob, it's difficult to get in the mood with Thomas the Tank Engine leering at me over your shoulder."

"You think that's tricky, try getting it up in the company of Olaf and Optimus Prime." he held up the offending toys "I'm never going to be able to go into the Disney Store again" he waggled the stuffed Olaf in front of the phone and Zoe burst out into laughter, tears running from her eyes. "I tell you no stuffed toy should see what we've just done." he threw it over his shoulder and it bounced off the wall.

"Don't you feel weird doing this in your nephew's bedroom?"

"I don't have a lot of other options, I'm not doing this in my Mum's front room."

"Where are they all? They aren't going to be running in any minute are they?"

Fingers lay back on the bed making himself comfortable. "Nah, Justine's taken them over to see their Dad, they won't be back until tomorrow and as soon as she's shot of the kids she's down the pub."

"And your mum?"

"Relax, no one is back for ages, but you raise an interesting point"

"I do?"

"What are we doing here Zoe?" the question was posed casually, throw away even.

"Apart from skyping you with my knickers off?"

"Yes, talking of which can you lift the phone a bit more, I can't see your arse at this angle"

"You won't see anything soon, I'm bloody freezing, I'm getting under the covers" she threw the duvet over herself "I thought we were having fun"

"I am, I just can't help thinking we could be having a whole lot more fun if we were in the same room"

Zoe paused for a beat, her mouth went dry "Go on"

"You're in Aldershot right?"

"Yeah"

"I'm based at Bulford but I'm not expected back in barracks until after new year."

"Lucky for you"

"Look I'm not going to be able stick it out here until then. I'm down for Dawsey's party at New Year, I could come down a few days early, keep you company. What do you say?"

Zoe rolled over onto her back, making a show of making herself comfortable as she let his idea roll around in her head. She was tempted, and not just because she wanted to stick two fingers up to Toby and his comment about her lonely Christmas. She was being honest when she said she was having fun and she couldn't disagree with his observation that there would be more fun to be had together than over a wifi connection.

"Alright" the self-satisfied grin on his face told her all she needed to know "When were you thinking?"

"Day after Boxing Day?"

"Won't your mum want you stay longer?"

"She'll be glad to get her front room back, she tries not to let on but I can tell I'm driving her mad. We all are, Justine needs to pull her finger out and get a place of her own, but the free babysitting here is just too good."

"Rob?"

"What?"

"I don't need to know all this. The 27th sounds fine to me. I'll text you over my address later"

He gave her his cheekiest grin "I'm looking forward to it already"

 **Blimey, that was a long one. Sorry about that. At this rate we're never going to get to Christmas ;-). I know this chapter was a bit light on Molly and Charles and there was rather a lot of other characters popping up, but I have things (mostly) planned out and I needed to plant a few seeds. The next few chapters will have Molly and Charles at their centre.**

 **Thanks to jenmc and itsembarrasing for their beta reading and advice on the workings of the teenage mind.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Christmas Eve**

 _"And here we see another example of assibilation. The tonal shift from the p- sound to an f- sound in the Germanic languages follows the rules as set out in Grimm's Law..."_

Molly cut off the car stereo in mid sentence. "Can we have a break now? He's been going on for over an hour"

"It's absolutely fascinating stuff, don't you think?"

"Hmm" she replied.

She turned around to look at Sam, staring out the window, plugged into his earphones and felt a stab of jealousy. He wasn't expected to listen to whatever 'fascinating' podcast Charles had found this week. It had been briefly interesting, but after a while the references to front and back vowels and the many tangents the narrator had gone down had confused her and she was sure she'd heard this bit about honey and fish before.

The sky outside was a deep gunmetal grey, the thick blanket of cloud over an already dim midwinter day made it seem like permanent twilight even though it was barely later than one o'clock. Squally winter showers rattled against the windscreen as the traffic on the A303 ground to a halt somewhere near Andover.

"I knew we should've set off earlier" grumbled Charles "get ahead of this bloody traffic." In front of them was a line of glowing red brake lights.

Molly stared out of the window again, the weather wasn't letting up, speckles of ice ran down the window as the rain turned sleety. The car had started to mist up as the air outside got colder.

"Not much we can do about it now" she said pragmatically "wanna see if there's anything on the local traffic news?"

"No, might just text dad though, let him know we've been delayed"

"Pass it here, don't want you to be done for texting and driving"

"Not much chance of that, seeing as we're going nowhere"

Molly dutifully tapped out a message to Charles' dad and after a few moments got a response " _OK, all set for xmas day?"_

"All done" she said breezily trying to ignore the knot of nerves in her stomach. Charles looked across at her, she was biting her lip as she fiddled with the hem of her jumper. He could feel the nervous tension coming off her. He reached across the console and grasped her hand. "Everything alright Dawsey?"

"Yeah. Why shouldn't it be?" she snatched her hand from his more defensively than she intended.

"Ok, if you say so" Charles held his hands up to signal surrender

"Sorry" mumbled Molly. "Just tired, you know?"

"Of course" he smiled to himself, hiding it behind his hand as he rubbed it across mouth. Molly caught his change of tone and glimpsed the ghost of his smirk out the corner of her eye.

"I _am_ tired"

"Sure" Charles was openly smirking now

"I am"

"That's what I thought"

Molly reached over the centre console and smacked him on the arm with the back of her hand.

"Oi, don't beat me woman!"

"Stop ripping the piss then"

Charles grabbed her hand as it came in for another swipe, lifting it against his lips. He gently kissed her knuckles. Raising his eyes, he met her gaze across the car "I promise you, Molly, I will never...ever... ever stop taking the piss" he leant over, his face hovering in front of hers as he leant in for a kiss.

"Ugh" a voice piped up from the back seat "seriously, do you have to?" Molly and Charles turned to see a look of disgust on Sam's face. "I'm sitting right here you know"

"You'd better close your eyes then Sam" Charles shot back at his petulant son as he continued to lean in towards Molly's lips.

"God, get a room" Sam's voice squeaked, unfortunate timing as he tried to sound personally affronted by the show of affection in the front seat. Molly and Charles exchanged a look, they had agreed not to draw attention to Sam's breaking voice. Molly bit down on her lip as Charles winked at her. "Traffic's moving" she said, turning her attention out of the windscreen "you've been spared this time Sammy." Sam grunted as he replaced the buds into his ears and went back to staring at his phone screen.

The traffic started to pick up and they quickly built up speed. As the journey progressed Charles reached across and picked up Molly's hand, giving it a squeeze "There's nothing to worry about, Dawsey."

"I ain't worried"

"What is it then?"

"Just a bit on edge is all"

"Why?"

"How do you think he'll take it?" Molly inclined her head towards Sam on the seat behind her. "He's feeling dead weird about the baby and everything, I don't want him getting upset with us too"

"I'll have a chat with him later. Don't worry about it."

"Hmm" Charles' words did little to placate Molly's feelings, he wasn't always the best person to deal with Sam; they were too close in temperament and more often than not they ended up clashing, especially now as Sam's puberty was kicking in.

"Trust me" Charles briefly stroked her cheek before placing both hands on the wheel and turning his concentration back to the road.

* * *

The car drew up in front of Royal Crescent; the delay on the road paid off in the reward of a parking space close to the house as Bath emptied of last minute shoppers. Charles was relieved to climb out from behind the steering wheel and stretch his legs, long stints driving tended to aggravate his injury, especially on the back of a week on his feet. It had taken a few years of struggling against himself to realise that no matter how much he wished otherwise he was never going to recover fully and be as before.

In the initial weeks after the shooting he could only see on what he had lost, his energies had been taken up with regret and self recrimination. As time drew on and with a fledgling relationship with Molly blossoming he glimpsed a different, happier future. But it was a fragile thing, ripped apart by the double blow of Smurf's sudden death and Molly's decision to volunteer for a second tour.

He had descended back to those dark days he had experienced in the hospital in Birmingham. Although he had told Molly that she had unfinished business in Afghan and that she needed to go and get it out of her system, coming so soon after Smurf's death he knew she was running away and he feared she was running from him. Spending his days alone in Bath there was little else to do but dwell on events once more and the dark spiral began again. Headley Court had put paid to much of his introspection; back in the machinery of the army he was given routine and challenge as he worked on returning to his physical fitness. His time at Headley had also opened his eyes to how easy it was to lose your way, and to loose grip on a life that had seemed so solid and permanent. He came to realise that these feelings were a normal part of the grieving process; grieving for what was lost or for a future that was not to be, and that he had to work not to be overwhelmed by them.

He knew he was lucky. Molly had come back to him. He was still of use to the army and could make use of his skills and experience; he may no longer have the appetite to be a full time soldier, but he thrived in the Army Reserve. It tapped into his strengths of taking on a diverse group of people and turning them into a well-honed unit of soldiers. But most of all it enabled him to support Molly in everything she wanted to achieve, and to show her that she could do more than she even thought possible.

The first few years hadn't been plain sailing; being with Molly was very different to everything he had known before. Rebecca had naturally been suspicious of this new influence on their son's life, but Molly had made it very clear that she was in no way in the market to be a Mum to Sam. She related to him on another level; taking him on more as a sister or friend. Initially she still lived in barracks, so the flat always seemed like it was his and Sam's which helped with the transition, although not living with Molly day to day was a source of frustration to Charles.

Early on Charles realised just how little time he had spent with his son in the first years of his life. Four tours of Afghanistan in a little over eight years had spelt the end of his marriage, and to Sam, Charles was more of an abstract idea on a screen or satellite phone connection than a real person. The first full weekend Charles had Sam he hadn't even known what time to put him to bed. Molly had very deliberately volunteered for guard duty that weekend so he couldn't even call on her for help, knowing he had to find his own way. He had muddled through, but it had been a wake up call to Charles, he had always missed Sam when he was deployed and worried that he wasn't present enough for him, and now back in the UK for the foreseeable future he was determined to change that. After the separation Rebecca had moved from married quarters in Catterick back down south to be nearer to her parents. With Molly at Aldershot and his ongoing recovery at Headley it had made sense to try and base himself close to them as soon as possible. While he was waiting for his discharge to come through he was still technically based at Catterick, but with his stints at Headley he was able to spend much of his time in Bath. By the time he was discharged it was a matter of a few short months before he could leave the army and make his new life closer to his son and Molly.

Being in Bath never failed to remind him of that time, the patience his parents had shown helping to get him back on his feet in all senses of the word, the euphoria of those first few months with Molly after her second tour, the moments as he reconnected with his son on his own terms and built his new life. His parents house stood out in the elegance of the Georgian crescent, lights twinkled from the windows, the curtains still open, spilling light out into the mid-winter gloom. An enormous tree stood in the window of the main drawing room, tastefully swagged with ivory and gold decorations. The heavy brass knocker on the door buried under an enormous wreath of evergreen and bright shiny holly berries.

Molly climbed out from the car, stretching after the long drive before heading to the boot to start to remove their suitcases and the bags of presents for all the family. Sam loitered beside her, trying to catch a glimpse of the presents in their wrapping, his face one of childhood excitement instead of its more normal adolescent scorn.

"Sam, go knock on the door and let Nanna and Pops know we've arrived" Charles lifted a box from the car "Bloody hell Molly, this weighs a tonne, what the hell have you got in here?"

"Just a few bits and that" she rummaged in the box checking that it was the correct one

"Hurry up woman, my arms are killing me"

"Shut your bleedin cake hole, yep that one can go in, the other one can stay in the car, that's for my lot." she threw a blanket over it and shut the door, lifting their bags onto her back.

"Keys Dawes, in my pocket." Charles indicated to his right "Can you lock the car?"

Molly put her hand in his trouser pocket, slowly and deliberately brushing her fingers against him as she did "Jesus woman" Charles exclaimed "Can't leave me alone for a moment can you?"

"Just remembering our first Christmas here" she winked at him drawing the keys from his pocket.

"Later. Come on, before I'm not fit for company"

They made their way to the the house the door held open by a man, tall as his son, his salt and pepper hair cut shorter, but still with the tell-tale James' wave.

"Come in, come in before I let all the heat out" he joked from the doorway.

Charles deposited the box of presents in the hall before turning and embracing his father, who then turned his attention to Molly, kissing her on both cheeks. "Molly my dear, so good to see you, looking well."

Molly returned the embrace "Hello Theo. Sorry we're so late"

"Nonsense, that bloody 303, eh? Never mind, you're here now. Charles, take that through and put them under the tree and then you can take the bags up" he indicated to the presents and backpacks "Maggie is in the kitchen, shall we go on through? Have you eaten? You need feeding up girl, there's nothing to you" he tucked Molly's hand in his arm and led her down the corridor.

The kitchen was bright and warm; Sam had propped himself against the aga and was munching on a mince pie. Charles' mother, Margaret was sat at the kitchen table peeling carrots. Her hair was grey with flecks of gold, cut into a shoulder length bob, her clothes elegantly bohemian, a raw silk tunic over wide legged trousers. Around her neck she wore a large silver pendant on a long chain. She stood as Molly entered the room, hugging her warmly "Molly my dear, so lovely" she looked flushed, Molly put it down to the warmth from the aga. "Sam was just helping himself to a mince pie, can I get you anything? Have you eaten? A glass of something perhaps?"

"Tea would be lovely, I'm gasping" Molly replied, taking a seat.

"Teddy! Teddy! Oh, there you are" Margaret realised her husband was standing next to her "can you do the honours please"

Theo dutifully filled the kettle and started to measure tea leaves into a teapot "Think I'll join you" he muttered to Molly "thank goodness there's a fellow tea drinker in the house now. I've got a lovely darjeeling here, just the ticket, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm more of a Tetley girl to be honest Theo, but whatever you fancy. Warm and wet is good for me"

Margaret and Sam chatted away as the kettle boiled, she asked him about school and the rugby team and Sam for once seemed to be willing to talk to an adult. Molly took a seat by the table soaking up the atmosphere of the room and family. A pair of hands rested on her shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze and she looked up into Charles' warm brown eyes before he leant over to kiss his mother on the cheek. "Everything's looking great mum" Margaret looked fondly at him before returning her attentions to Sam once more.

After the tea was drunk and Molly had eaten a mince pie out of politeness rather than hunger Charles persuaded Sam to take a walk with him to Victoria Park before they lost the light. Theo disappeared upstairs to do some last minute present wrapping leaving Molly and Margaret alone in the kitchen. Molly, eager to find something to help pass the time had taken over the peeling of vegetables whilst Margaret ground spices and mixed a marinade.

"You're OK with spices aren't you Molly?" she asked "I'm doing tandoori quail this year, do you like quail?"

"Don't think I've ever had one. Is it like chicken?" Molly was used to the eclectic Christmas dinners served at Charles' house by now. The house, decorations and order of the day may be as traditional as they came, but the food was always different, a reflection of the life the family had led in their various foreign postings across the world. Molly was always assured of a traditional turkey and all the trimmings at her parents and it meant that Boxing Day with her family felt more like Christmas rather than the next day.

"Hmm" Margaret smeared spiced yoghurt over the the quail absent mindedly before glancing at the clock over the door. "Oh goodness, Molly, be a darling and put the radio on for me, the carol service is about to start."

Molly turned on the radio, the soothing intonation of the presenter, explained the tradition of the festival of nine lessons and carols as she cleared the vegetable peelings away. Margaret finished her task, and was just coming through from the pantry as the first words of 'Once in royal David's city' started up. They both stilled as they listened to the high clear voice of the chorister as he sang the first verse.

"Oh, that must be so nerve wracking for the poor child" Margaret spoke up. "Did Charles ever tell you about when he sang that for his school's Christmas service? I was a bundle of nerves"

"He never said"

"Oh, he had the most beautiful voice" Margaret took on a wistful air "he could have gone to one of the choir schools, but he was always more fond of sports. Couldn't keep him off the games field. Such a shame. Now dear, l think we've earned ourselves a little reward after all that hard work" she took a bottle of champagne from the fridge and got down two crystal flutes.

"It's only 15… sorry, 3 o'clock" Molly protested

"It's Christmas Eve. Supper is only cold meats and salads, we have nothing left to do except relax for the next few hours." she set a full glass down on the table.

Molly reached for another mince pie hoping to line her stomach and sipped slowly at the champagne. "Do you know, I think we've got it on video. I must ask Teddy"

"What on video?"

"Charles singing at the carol concert. We should dig it out." she looked about her, finally spotting her phone on the table underneath a pile of recipe cards "I'll just send Teddy a message. Goodness only knows what he's getting up to in that study of his. Text messages are such a godsend, they save on walking up all those stairs." Across the kitchen a phone buzzed "Oh that bloody man. What good is a mobile phone if you never take it with you?"

Molly smiled to herself and took another sip of her drink as Margaret muttered away about her husband and his quirks. Molly was very fond of Theo, he was funny, he teased Margaret but you could see that underneath theirs was a sincere relationship. Charles had once said that his mother had given up a lot in her marriage. To Molly, Margaret's life didn't seem to be lacking in any way and she couldn't really see what she would have given up.

Their moment of calm was interrupted by the slamming of the back door, quickly followed by Sam storming through the kitchen. The back door opened behind him as Charles followed hard on his heels. "Sam! Sam! Come back here right now! You bloody well come back and apologise for what you said!"

Molly sprang to her feet following behind Charles, she grabbed at his elbow, stopping him before he reached the doorway to the corridor. "Leave him to cool down, hun." Charles sighed, he knew she was right but his blood was roaring in his ears, partly from the run after Sam, partly in anger at his attitude. He pushed the hat off his head, running his hands through his hair. He let Molly lead him back to the kitchen table and sat down heavily.

"I don't know what to do with him. God, he just won't listen. I tell you, if I'd spoken to him like he just did to me...I was never like that". Molly caught sight of Margaret who widened her eyes at this statement before diplomatically taking a swig of her drink. Molly stroked the arm of his coat, the damp from the cold outside condensing on the thick wool. "Just leave him be for now; he'll come round." She hoped she sounded soothing. "He's a bit out of sorts about the baby" she offered by way of explanation to Margaret.

"Well, I imagine it's hard for him to deal with; it's a trying age, and I'm afraid they don't really like change much, do they?"

"That's no excuse for his behaviour" Charles' temper was still up.

"Maybe not dear, but you need to remember he's still a child. He may seem very grown up, but he still thinks like a child, and it must be very hard to have all this change imposed on him. He's been the only one for so long, the idea of everything he knows changing isn't easy." She stood up from the table, patting Charles' shoulder as she passed "Now, I'm off to track down your father. Shall we say 7 o'clock for supper dear? Why don't you and Molly take the rest of that bottle into the living room; the fire's lit"

* * *

The fire had been reduced to slow burning embers, Charles threw a small log on and set about coaxing it back to life, prodding it with a poker and blowing until small flames licked up the sides of the dry wood. Once he was satisfied that the fire had taken he threw on another larger log that should keep it going for a while. He joined Molly on the large sofa, sitting down heavily and stretching his legs out, resting his feet on the coffee table. He sighed, reaching for her hand.

"You calmed down any?" She asked gently as she rubbed the back of his hand

"A bit. But bloody hell Molls, he was a being right little shit. I've a good mind to cancel Christmas"

"Don't get carried away. What did he say?"

"Oh the usual; how could we do this to him, it's so embarrassing, he doesn't want anything to do with the wedding."

"Well, on the bright side he didn't say he hates us"

"Well not you. I'm the _worst dad ever_ , apparently"

"Well, I can't be doing with that. I think him and me need a word, there's no way he's gonna beat me in the shittiest dad stakes" she made to get up, letting Charles pull her down to the sofa onto his lap.

"Well, they do say girls end up marrying their dads you know" he said in mock seriousness

"Not me. " she shook her head "I dodged that bullet"

"You've dodged quite a few"

"Well, when all the blokes in your life are tossers you learn to spot a good one. Drills and skills, ain't it?" she shrugged wriggling off his lap.

"Where are you off to now?" He pulled her close again.

"There's a bottle of champagne getting warm in the kitchen, and judging by the state of your mum we've got a fair bit of catching up to do."

"My mum's not drunk"

"I'm sure she's been hitting the bottle all afternoon, I bet you any money she's upstairs having a little disco nap."

"You stay here, I'll get it" Charles headed towards the kitchen. He returned with the bottle and two glasses. He poured one for Molly and passed it to her. Accepting it she made a great show of holding it up to the light, looking at it closely.

"What is it now?"

"Just checking you ain't dropped anything into it. Wouldn't want to choke on a massive rock or nothing would I?" she grinned.

"Uh uh. No piss taking Dawes. We agreed."

"You ain't gonna hold me to that?"

"Absolutely"

"No. You can't. Your mum's promised me a home video of your choirboy past. You mean I gotta sit through that with a straight face?"

"She's what?"

"Told you she's well oiled. She's got your dad looking it out and everything. I think it was Once in Royal David's City that I was looking forward to the most. Was it before or after your voice broke?" she sniggered.

"You're joking" Charles' face turned pale

Molly shook her head, a cheeky grin on her face "This is too good to joke about. I hope you're wearing one of them frilly collars under your choirboy dress"

"Cassock and ruff" he answered with his head in his hands.

Molly could barely contain her amusement "Colour?" she asked, biting on her cheek to stop herself from laughing.

"Red"

"Hmmmm" she couldn't hold herself back any more, her voice was barely audible as she squeaked out "And one of them nightie things over the top?"

"Surplice"

Molly burst out into peals of laughter, her champagne slopped out of its flute onto the carpet as she struggled to put it down on the coffee table.

"You wouldn't be laughing at me, would you Dawes?" growled Charles, looking up. Molly shook her head, tears running down her cheeks "you'd better not be laughing at me" he grinned, leaning towards her, using his body to press her back into the sofa.

"Never" Molly gasped out as she fought to suppress her giggles.

"What's so fucking funny then, eh?" Charles loomed over her as she lay back on the sofa, a predatory gleam in his eye.

"Nothing. Honest"

"You're the worst liar Dawes" Charles' face was inches from hers now and moving closer. "Still, seeing as we've got the place to ourselves how's about we get up to the sort of thing that would really enrage Sam"

"Yes please" Molly replied.

 **A/N**

 **I have to give a plug to Charles' podcast of choice, A History of English, fascinating if you like linguistics and trivia (I do). I know I'm getting slower and slower on the updates, sorry for that; everyday life is a pesky thing.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Christmas Day**

Someone had opened the curtains. A shaft of weak winter sunlight was thrown across the bed and was shining in Molly's face. She groaned in annoyance, turning over to face away from the window.

"Charming" came a voice next to her.

"I'm sleeping Charles"

"Well, it's time to wake up. Come on you lazy mare" Charles' tone was good natured and mocking.

"Piss off" Molly kept her eyes firmly shut, hoping that he would let her go back to sleep. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and her head was fuzzy. She heard the sound of a spoon stirring in a cup, and the cup being set down on the bedside table. She opened her eyes a fraction, searching out the tea mug.

"Ahh, gotcha" Charles was stood beside the bed, hands on his hips, a jumper thrown over his pyjamas.

"I just want the tea" Molly sat up, blowing the hot liquid before taking a sip.

"I brought breakfast as well." he picked a tray off the dresser, setting it on her knees. "Toast. Scrambled eggs. Bacon or smoked salmon with yours?"

"Bleugh. I ain't eating smoked salmon, it's well dodgy. Pass us the bacon." She settled the tray on her lap; nibbling on the corner of a slice of toast, not trusting her stomach to egg or bacon yet. Charles wriggled under the covers next to her, reaching over and grabbing the plate he set about piling egg and salmon on his toast.

"Merry Christmas Dawsey" he said between mouthfuls of egg "want to find out what's in your stocking?" he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Paracetamol and sunglasses I hope. Jesus your parents can't half put it away. I swear your mum's blood group is gin."

"Never underestimate the skills a life in the British Consular service will give you. You did a good job of keeping up with them. You were spark out snoring when I got in from the midnight service."

"I don't snore"

Charles grinned at her, a cheeky boyish grin, full of unsaid mischief. Her stomach gave a little flip, one that was definitely not down to drinking too much wine last night. Molly turned her attention to the breakfast tray, mentally calculating whether she was ready for the bacon yet. She decided not, and carried on sipping her tea and nibbling on the dry toast. Charles finished his plate, placing it on the floor next to the bed, then turned to face her, sucking the butter from his thumb his eyes roaming over her suggestively. He moved closer, cosying up to her side.

"Are you going to put that tea down and let me give you your Christmas present?" He placed a kiss on her cheek, then continued to kiss down towards her jaw, brushing her hair off her face as he went. His hand slipped under the covers, burrowing beneath her t shirt to the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. Molly's breath caught, his fingers slowly stroked against her skin working their way downwards as his lips continued down her neck. She wriggled away from him to move the tray from the bed and place it on the floor. Charles broke away as well, removing his jumper and t shirt in one fluid movement before pulling Molly back against his chest. His hands picked up where they had left off as he pushed her waistband down over her hips. Molly wriggled out of the pyjamas, pushing them off her legs

The desire for him had never stopped. Even after all these years a look, a smile, a touch and she was mesmerised. By now she had thought that being with Charles would be routine, that she would be used to it, having to put in a bit of effort or imagination to get all cylinders firing in the bedroom, but it was never the case. She had thought that the first wave of passion would die and that things would peter out, wasn't that what they all said; but instead it had been replaced by something else, a responsiveness and need for him that was built on familiarity and trust; the frequency may have changed but the passion and satisfaction hadn't. Each time he touched her it was a continuation of something, another experience in their shared history, building something bigger than the two of them.

She kissed him slowly as he pushed her t shirt up, revelling in the feeling of his warm hands over her skin. He stroked them down her body pulling her closer "How's that hangover now, eh?" he muttered against her ear.

"Well seeing as most of my blood has left me brain I'm feeling a bit better" Molly pulled her t shirt off as she wrapped a leg around Charles' thigh, holding him close.

"I've got the perfect cure for a hangover you know" he kissed her collarbone, his hands cupping her breasts as he moved down. Molly reached between them, stroking him lightly, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath as she tightened her grip.

Outside the door a floorboard squeaked as someone walked past their room. Molly froze, her ears straining to hear as footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"What was that?"

"Don't care" Charles mumbled against her skin, his hand moving over hers to communicate that she shouldn't have stopped.

"Do you think Sam's up?"

"Still don't care"

"He might want to come in. I'm not having a repeat of last year, trapped under the covers starkers while he wants to show me everything he got in his stocking." She wriggled away from Charles' grasp, searching under the duvet for her t shirt.

"Don't you dare put that back on" growled Charles taking it from her hands and throwing it across the room. "No one is coming in." he carried on where he had left off, his fingers idly playing with her has he slowly kissed the top of her breasts. Down the corridor a toilet flushed and someone coughed before making their way across the squeaky floorboard again. Molly froze "It's your dad, do you think he heard us?"

"I don't think it's a secret that we have sex. Not even to my Dad" Charles broke off and looked up at her

"I don't want him to bloody hear, do I?" Molly whispered down at him

"He's as deaf as a post" Charles returned to her other breast his mouth moving at an agonisingly slow pace.

Molly was still distracted, straining her ears to catch the noises in the house. She heard a knock on the neighbouring door, and Theo's voice calling to see if Sam was awake. After a moment the door opened and she could just make out Sam talking.

"Shitting hell, Sam's up now" Molly tried to wriggle out of Charles' grasp as his mouth finally found her nipple, his tongue swirling over its peak. He held her close, not relinquishing his hold on her.

"...up at last Sammy? I remember when you used to wake the house before dawn to get at your stocking…" Molly could make out Theo's words now "Your dad and Molly should be up by now, he took her breakfast in a good half an hour ago, do you want to see if they want to come down now or do you want breakfast first?"

"Choose breakfast Sam" Charles muttered under his breath as he started to kiss down Molly's stomach, his fingers slowly stroking up and down her thighs. Molly was frozen, listening to the exchange outside.

"I'll just go in and say Merry Christmas Pops. I'll be down in a minute."

"Fuck!" Molly sat up in bed, stealing Charles' t shirt before he could get to it and throwing his jumper at him. She grabbed the breakfast tray and set it on her lap as Charles searched under the bedclothes for his pyjama bottoms. There was a knock on the door, Molly and Charles looked at each other and then towards the door as Sam poked his head around.

"Merry Christmas Dad, Merry Christmas Molly" he said, then spotting the tray on Molly's lap "Don't you want that bacon Molly?"

* * *

Charles looked across the kitchen table at Sam. He was running his thumb nail up and down a small crack on the tabletop utterly absorbed by the small, repetitive action. This hair was carefully styled the waves brushed neatly from his side parting, held down by just a little too much gel. He looked smart, presentable, just a little too studied and put together for a young teenager. His face was, on the whole, still boyish, the jaw soft, his nose delicate, but it was also obvious that the time for such boyish looks was nearly up. Looking at him now it didn't seem possible that all those years had passed; in his face Charles could still see the toddler, and the boy Sam had been as well as a hint of the man to come.

"Sam, come on, pay attention" he tapped the map in front of them. "We could do a walk around Monkton or Avoncliff"

"Why do we have to go for a walk?" Sam briefly tore his attention away from the table. "Can't we stay in?"

"Come on you lazy sod" Molly plonked herself down next to him, cutting through the tension building between father and son "we need some fresh air and your Nanna won't want us under her feet all morning"

"Alright" Sam reluctantly agreed "but just a short one"

Charles leant over the map, his fingers tracing the dotted pink lines as he calculated the different routes. Molly nudged Sam and nodded towards his dad; Sam sniggered. Charles glanced up at the pair of them, and caught their conspiratorial glances. Leaning back he rested his hands on his hips "what is it now?"

"Nothing boss" Molly giggled "just forgot me notebook, you know for the briefing"

"This won't do Molly" Sam chipped in. He tapped the map in front of them "you need to take this seriously. We will proceed to to the drop of point here, then head in a north-westerly direction.." His words trailed off into laughter.

"Yes, yes. Very funny" Charles played along, glad that Molly managed to lighten the conversation even if it was at his expense, somehow he constantly hit the wrong note with Sam these days, Molly provided the much needed light touch. "We can park up at the pub and do the walk from there. If you buggers stop taking the piss for five minutes I might even buy you a drink when we're done."

The morning sun continued to shine as the party of three made their way up the side of the valley, the low angled light catching on the melting frost. Frost remained in the shadow of the trees lining the path, white against the yellowing grass and seedheads of the teasels and wild parsnip. The climb was steep, their breath huffing out clouds of condensation as they made their way up. Charles led the way, his long legs giving him a natural advantage, with Sam and Molly climbing steadily behind. As they reached the edge of the woodland that clung to the valley's brim he turned, looking back on the view; rolling hills and honey coloured houses clustered around a small church at the valley's bottom. Molly stopped just in front of him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her against his chest. They stood quietly as they got their breath back, Sam continued up the path and into the woodland behind them.

"Not bad, eh?" Charles bend his head, brushing his lips against her temple.

"Alright I suppose" she looked up at him, his eyes fixed on the village below "Bit taters when you stop moving though"

"Do you need some warming up?" He muttered against her earlobe.

"Sam's played gooseberry enough today don't you reckon?" Charles' hands rested on her hips, she could feel him itching to move his fingers up, under her jacket "besides, we'd better get a move on if we're gonna get round this walk in time for you to buy us a drink before the pub closes."

"Spoilsport"

"Dad! Molly!" Sam called from the path above them "come on"

"Saved this time Dawes" Charles turned and made his way towards Sam, looking back at the view one last time before the path turned into the woods.

* * *

The fire crackled in the grate, orange embers glowing deep within the fire place under a thick layer of white ash and charred wood. The sour tang of woodsmoke clung to the furnishings of the front room, beyond the window the light was a dull sulphurous yellow behind heavy clouds that had rolled in after the morning's bright sunshine. Charles threw a couple of fresh logs on the fire, prodding at the embers to settle them in. Down the corridor he could hear the voices of his family and Molly as they made their way to the front room. The lights on the Christmas tree sparkled, reflecting in the red and gold decorations that festooned the tree. Garlands of evergreen and holly were swagged across the mantlepiece and the picture frames, every surface covered in wintery Christmas scenes from the many cards his parents had received. Under the tree sat piles of presents, more and more every time he looked. He quickly patted his thigh, checking that the small velvet box was still in his pocket, ready for the right moment.

Margaret came first bearing a tray of teas and coffees, his father followed with mince pies and Christmas cake, although how anyone could eat any more food was beyond him. Sam was eagerly trying to get past his grandparents, his patience quickly waning after waiting most of the day to get the present opening. Molly was the last into the room and she stood in the doorway a moment watching Charles and his family. Each of them tall and slim, they moved about the room seamlessly, like a tightly choreographed scene. Sam scuttled close to the tree, down on his knees, ready to distribute the presents. Charles sat forward on the edge of a large sofa. Margaret fussed with the tea tray, laying out cups and saucers, and Theo had disappeared off to the drinks cabinet.

Christmas dinner had been its normal blend of traditional and obscure; no turkey or bacon wrapped sausages in the James household. Molly had eaten all sorts over the Christmases with them, this year was curried quail, Molly had thought it was just like a scrawny chicken. After the oddly iconoclastic lunch the family swung the other way, with all ears tuning into the Queen's speech at 3pm; always on the radio, never televised. Molly would watch them all, solemnity etched in their faces as they earnestly absorbed every word, and she would try as hard as she possibly could not to to giggle. As the family stood for the national anthem and raised a toast at the end she had only managed to keep a straight face by squashing her toes under the chair leg and refusing to make eye contact with Sam who was hell bent on making her laugh. In the Dawes house the Queen's speech was something that stood between the end of pudding and a fight over who was doing the washing up.

Theo approached Molly, holding out a crystal brandy balloon for her to take. The amber liquid clung to the sides of the glass, testament to both its quality and strength. Molly's head was already fuzzy from champagne this morning and wine with dinner, she doubted she would be able to stay awake in front of a log fire with a brandy inside her. She took the glass and smiled gratefully figuring it was either that or a verbal dance of 'no thank you's' and 'go on, I insist's' if she didn't. "I saw you looking at the portrait in the dining room" Theo said, swirling his drink and warming it in his hands "It's rather imposing isn't it?" Molly was caught out, she had been staring at the picture, mainly in an attempt to not laugh at Charles as he sung the national anthem.

The portrait of was of a young man, no older than Charles, his dark hair swept forward in tendrils around his flushed face; he was staring to a distant point to his left, if you followed his eyeline he was looking out of the window to the curve of the Crescent and the park. He was dressed in spotless white breeches, a crimson sash around his slim waist, and his dark blue jacket was almost obscured by rows upon rows of silver brocade. His gloved left hand rested on the handle of his sword which dangled low against his hip; a fur lined cloak, again covered in brocade was slung over his shoulder in a rakish fashion. He had an intense, brooding look; matching the dramatic skies behind him. "I was wondering how long it would take to do up all them buttons" Molly replied "Not exactly a practical get up is it?" Theo spluttered into his glass laughing at Molly's ability to reduce things down to such a blunt observation. "That. my dear was the great-uncle of my maternal grandmother. He saw action in the Peninsular War and Waterloo" "Oh" Molly replied, mortified that she appeared to be dissing some family hero "Well, that's what I've been told" he continued "I've been doing a bit of research and it appears that whilst he was involved in action in all these places, he didn't exactly cover himself in glory. Looking into it I think the nicest thing anyone could say about his military record is that he kept his head down and survived it" He took another sip of his brandy, "That's a success then, ain't it?" Molly observed "get out and live to tell the tale; I bet a damn sight of 'em didn't, don't you reckon?"

"Ahh, but family legend has it that he was some great hero. A bit of a Sharpe character, if you get my drift" Molly didn't and it must have showed on her face "You know, daring, dangerous, took on the French single handedly and all that. Seems now that it wasn't the case."

"Might not have been him though, mightn't it?" Theo raised an eyebrow, signaling for her to continue "All sorts of people will have talked about it, could have got it all wrong, or maybe he done this one thing and everyone thought he was some great hero all the time." she stared into the middle distance "Look at me. Hundred years from now someone's gonna be saying their aunty was some great hero cause I got a medal. They're gonna think I was this brave person, saving people left right and centre when really it was just once, and I spent most of the rest of the time crapping myself" she glanced at Theo worried she might be offending him, but there was a gentle look on his face, his brown eyes soft and so like his son's "I did this one thing, once, cause if I didn't some nobber would have died and all his mates would have blamed me and I was looking at five and 'alf long months of being in the doghouse and I wanted people to like me. Truth is heroics like that mostly end up getting you killed, so if you wanna survive it's head down and plug away and do as you're told and hope your CO ain't a tosser. Good on him I reckon, to come through that and come home."

They stood in silence for a short time, Theo put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze "I agree" he whispered. In front of them Charles and Margaret were busying themselves with the teas and coffees, Sam holding the largest and heaviest present on his lap, picking nervously at the corner of the paper, the excitement of the prospect of unwrapping it consuming him. "Come _on_ Molly" Sam pleaded "Alright, alright mate, keep your hair on" Molly took her seat next to Charles. "What were you two talking about?" he asked "Family history" replied Theo, "Right, let's crack on then" he threw Molly a wink.

* * *

The kitchen was dark, lit only by the light from the hallway. Away from the log fire the rest of the house was chilly, the change in temperature causing Charles to shiver as he leant against the washing machine. He could hear water running and could see the movement of feet underneath the gap of the door. The feet stopped, standing still for a few seconds.

"I know you're out there" Molly shouted from the toilet.

"Well why don't you bloody come out then?"

"You can tell me from here can't you?" There was the sound of more water running and a rustle of towels. "I'm….erm...fixing my face"

"There's nothing wrong with your face" Charles sighed "I'm not going to bite"

Molly pulled the plug in the sink and water whooshed through the pipes

"My period came" came a tentative voice

"No it didn't"

"You don't know that"

"Yes I do; your period isn't due for another 3 days"

The door flew open, Molly silhouetted against the bathroom light. "What the fuck? Have you got a spreadsheet or something?"

"Ahh, there you are, and no, I haven't got a spreadsheet, just a vested interest" Charles grinned "why were you hiding?"

"I weren't hiding" Molly pouted, knowing full well she was "just getting a bit stuffy in there, you know" she shrugged.

"So nothing to do with you going behind my back and buying Sam a playstation then?"

"Course not" Molly stiffened, adjusting her shoulders slightly and drawing herself upright, unconsciously adopting her defiant stance. She looked Charles in the eye. He smiled and pushed himself away from the counter, stepping in close. Molly stood her ground, her eyes meeting his, not breaking his gaze even when she had to crane her neck as he rose to his full height. "Why then," he drawled, as he moved in closer moving slowly around as she turned with him "did 'we' get a playstation for my son"

"Because I think _your son_ needs to be like normal kids, living a normal life doing stuff that other kids do" Charles leant into her personal space and she retreated until her bottom was pressed up against the washing machine. She put her hands up to his chest to hold him back, resting them against the soft cotton of his shirt.

"I never had any of that sort of stuff, and I turned out just fine" he murmured lowering his face to hers. She could feel his breath against her cheek.

"Well that's a matter of opinion ain't it? Coming from the man who can't work the tele remote too good"

Charles lips brushed against her temple "very well, not 'too good'"

"Whatever. I mean it. All his mates have got them, a kid needs that sort of stuff in common with his friends, take it from me, we was always the odd ones out, never had nothing good." Molly smiled to herself as Charles continued to brush his lips gently against her cheek.

"Anything good Dawes. Have I taught you nothing about the English language?" Charles played along, his hands moving over her hips as he pushed her up to sit on on the kitchen counter.

"Anyway, he was well made up, you can't spoil it for him now" Molly tipped her head back, letting Charles's lips travel over her neck. He paused, "You're right about that. I haven't had a hug like that in years"

"See. You know I'm right" Molly grinned

"Not so fast Dawes," Charles' lips returned to her neck "you still need to address one glaring error in your plans for today." He moved his attentions to the other side of her neck, his hands stroking up her thighs.

"And what's that then?" Molly pushed herself closer, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him in.

"You didn't wear a skirt" Molly could feel his soft chuckle against her skin.

"Twat" she punched him lightly on the arm. "You think you're so great but given half a chance you'd have me barefoot, pregnant and chained to the kitchen sink."

"Not likely with your cooking"

"Oi, cheeky fucker"

"But I like the pregnant part of that equation" he leant in kissing her lightly on the lips, his hands moving over her hips to rest on her stomach "you'd look gorgeous pregnant"

"I'd look like my mum does, fat and knackered with massive canckles"

"Nonsense, you'd be beautiful"

"I'll remind you of that when I can't bend over to tie my boots over my canckles"

"I promise I'll love every inch of you, even your canckles"

Molly sniggered "soppy sod" she pulled him in for another kiss, her hands travelling to the front of his trousers. She stroked the growing hardness there, then stopping drew back from the kiss. "Umm, I think we might have a problem"

"What's that?" Charles questioned.

"Well this" she cupped a hard lump against his upper thigh "don't feel right to me"

Charles grinned "maybe I might gonna need a medic?" He fished inside his pocket drawing out a small blue velvet box, and holding it between his fingers. Molly froze, her response to his teasing dying in the back of her throat as it suddenly went very dry. She looked up from his hands to his face, half in shadow lit only by the light from the toilet. His eyes sparkled, a smile spread slowly over his face as he held her gaze "what do you say, medic?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Boxing Day**

Belinda smiled broadly as she opened the door to Molly "Molls!" she exclaimed wrapping her daughter in a tight hug "you look lovely". Letting go of her she turned her attention to Charles, wrapping him up in her arms and accepting a kiss on the cheek with a little giggle. "Come on Sam, you ain't getting away with no hug" she grabbed him, and held him as he stood in the doorway "blimey, ain't you getting tall" Sam rolled his eyes, he'd heard that from everyone this holiday. Charles caught his eye and gave him a pointed look, earning himself eye roll in the process. "Put the boy down Belinda" Dave stuck his head around the living room door "he don't need you fussing over him, and shut the bloody door, you're letting all the heat out." He nodded a greeting at his daughter and Charles, "Beer?"

"Bit early for me, thanks Dave" Charles politely declined glancing at the clock and noting it hadn't passed midday yet. "Got to give the liver a bit of a break after Christmas"

"Dave don't" Belinda laughed. "It's beer for breakfast round here"

"It's Christmas ain't it?"

"Yeah, and then it'll be New Years. Or it will be if the beer lasts that long"

"Don't start Belinda"

Molly sighed. They'd gone from happy families to snitty arguments in less than a minute. "How about I make us all a cuppa? I'm gasping" she undid her coat and made her way to the kitchen, Belinda fussing and clucking after her as she went.

"Bleedin' women" Dave grumbled to no one in particular before heading out to the balcony for a smoke, leaving Charles and Sam standing in the hallway. Sam abandoned his coat on top of the pile of others that had slid onto the floor and headed upstairs to hunt down Molly's brothers. Charles picked up the box of presents for Molly's family and took them to the living room, putting them under the tree for later. The Dawes' living room was more of chaotic mess than usual. Piles of wrapping paper and ribbon littered the floor along with disemboweled crackers; plastic trinkets and paper hats spewing over the carpet. The usual drier of crumpled clothes stood in the far corner by the window, the endless cycle of laundry didn't stop even at Christmas. Through the hatch into the kitchen Charles could make out the chirpy lilt of Belinda's voice as she gabbled away to Molly with all the news of family and work. The whole house held an air of comfortable family life teetering at the brink chaos. The thumps and muffled voices upstairs suggested that there was a full house up there. Charles started to gather together the piles of wrapping and spent crackers, stuffing them into the empty present box and doing as best he could to clear the carpet before the children upstairs realised that a new flush of presents had just arrived and added another layer.

"What you doing that for?" Charles looked up to see Bella standing in the doorway, a steaming mug of milky coffee in her hand "For you" she held the mug up waiting for Charles to take it.

"Just thought I'd clear some space before the next round of presents." he took the mug "Just to give your mum a hand"

"Well stop, you're making the rest of us look bad. Besides it's just gonna look a tip again in a few minutes." Dave squeezed past on the way back to his chair. He grunted his agreement with Bella "Waste of time mate, like painting the Forth Bridge. BELINDA! Where's me tea, man could die of thirst in this house"

"Only if he lost the use of his legs like you" Molly walked in, passing a mug to Dave "you lazy bugger. She perched on the arm of his seat smiling at the easy familiarity of the scene. Her Mum, Dad, Bella, the thump and muffled voices of the kids upstairs. It was crazy and noisy and messy and all a bit haphazard, especially after the peace of Charles' family, but for the first time in days she felt like she could fully relax. She caught Charles' eye and they exchanged a smile; she glanced at the coffee beside him and gave a small shrug of apology, she knew he wouldn't drink it, but he wouldn't make a fuss.

"Ain't those kids coming down for their presents?" She asked no one in particular. "Five minutes love, eh?" Belinda pleaded "it's nice to have a bit of a break." Upstairs the noise grew louder and there was a series of loud thumps followed by a brief pause before the shouting began. "Bloody kids" muttered Dave "Bella, go and tell them to put a sock in it" Bella rolled her eyes before wandering to the bottom of the stairs at a leisurely pace and shouting up them for the kids to "shut the hell up."

"I dunno what I can do about them," Belinda sighed "They've been under my feet all holidays, eating everything in sight and fighting all the bloody time. Why can't they just get along?"

"They need to get outside mum, run off some energy, you can't keep em cooped up in the house all day" Charles cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at Molly's statement and earned a glare from her in return.

"I know, but I can't be dealing with all the looks and that. It's not like it was when you was here Molls. All these people moving into the area, they ain't paid out half a million quid to listen to my kids squabbling in the street. The council was onto us about complaints; I'll give them complaints, where else are the kids supposed to go these days now they shut everywhere? I can't afford to send em all to the leisure centre for a swim when it's four quid a pop."

Molly reached over and squeezed her hand. "Maybe you can take em out for a bit later eh Bella, give mum a break?" Bella snorted into her tea "Not bloody likely" she replied. Charles could see her bristle at her sister's comment; Belinda seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room carried on her commentary "I got out to see your Nan yesterday, she's doing ever so well and she got a Christmas meal with the other people in the flats. She said she'd be seeing you today, did you pop over on your way?"

"Nah, we'll call in our way back, won't we?" Molly glanced at Charles who nodded as he took a sip of the coffee and gave the briefest of grimaces.

"Oh she'll like that" Belinda drained her tea mug and Charles wondered if the ability to drink scalding hot tea so quickly was a unique attribute of the Dawes family; they had mostly all finished their drinks. "Right, let's get this over and done with" Belinda picked herself off the sofa and walked to the bottom of the stairs "Don't you lot want your presents then?" she shouted up the stairs. There was a brief pause when all was quiet upstairs, then broken by the thundering of feet on floorboards as a scuffle broke out to get to the door. Charles followed the path of the thumping feet across the ceiling and down the stairs as the remaining Dawes children and Sam jostled into the room. They chattered incessantly, Sam and Liam keeping up a constant conversation about the latest cheats and gameplay and which YouTube channels were the best to subscribe to. Occasionally Tommy would mock them or offer an opinion, and Leah would roll her eyes. Martin bounced on the balls of his feet, shouting and interrupting their conversations at every opportunity. They seemed oblivious to the presence of the adults in the room, hardly breaking off their conversation to organise themselves into distributing the presents. There was a brief moment of hush as paper was ripped, but the noise soon swelled back to its original levels.

"Oh thank you Molls, Charles" Belinda clutched her bottle of Baileys in one hand, leaning to hug Molly "ain't that lovely Dave, and what you got?" She craned her neck to see, carrying on her monologue with each gift. Sam got another maternal hug for his thank you, and an exclamation of "what a nice boy he was" and "didn't he have lovely manners". Dave escaped the crowd for a few moments for another cigarette on the balcony, pressing a cold can of lager into Charles' hand when he came back. Charles nodded his thanks and put it down next to the barely drunk coffee. Molly caught his eye again, amused at his silent acceptance of her family. He raised an eyebrow and grinned, a silent joke passing between them forcing Molly too look away before she laughed out loud.

Charles' phone rang, he stood to fish it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen he made his apologies and stepped outside before he answered. Belinda put her arm around Molly, pulling her close and kissing her on the temple. "It's lovely to have you all here" she whispered into her daughter's hair. Molly hugged her back, basking in the quiet affection of the moment. "Oh would you look at the time" Belinda exclaimed "I got to get the veg on or else we won't eat this side of tea time" before she escaped to the kitchen.

A few minutes passed, the children carried on their raucous conversations, Dave sank his can, Bella tapped away at her phone. All was homely, comfortable and settled. The front door opened and a cold draft blew into the house. Molly could hear Charles' voice from the hallway, it was low, almost as if he was whispering. Molly looked up, assuming he was still on the phone but instead Charles was stood in the doorway, her Nan leaning against his arm as she walked, a stick in her other hand. "Nan!" Molly leapt to her feet, "we was coming to you later, why didn't you say nothing? How did you manage the stairs? Come and sit down" taking her arm she led her to the sofa "Bella, shift yourself" she insisted as she cleared a path and sat her Nan down.

"Give it a rest" Nan shook Molly's hand off. "I ain't a china doll, stop fussing" She sank back in the chair, still out of breath from walking up the stairs, but fighting not to show the effort it had taken. "Just give me a minute to get my coat off". Belinda rushed in, drying her hands on a tea towel "Mum, what you doing here? Is everything alright?"she was silenced by a long glare, and stayed quiet fidgeting from one foot to another wringing the towel in her hands and glancing at Molly. After a couple of minutes Nan opened her eyes, casting over the sight before her of her daughter and eldest grandchild both staring worriedly at her. She sat herself up on the seat and slowly began to unbutton her coat; she struggled to get her arms out of the sleeves and paused midway through to summon her strength once again. She folded the coat over her arm, stuffing her scarf into a pocket. She held it out "Bella. Take my coat" she instructed in a tone that even Bella couldn't ignore. "Blimey. Don't look at me like that Belinda. I'm fine. I just need a little rest, not used to that many stairs."

Belinda rushed forward, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. She hugged her mum close as she sat next to her on the sofa. "Oh mum, it's a miracle"

"Don't talk daft; it's physiotherapy. Just needed to build my strength up. As Charles said I gotta have goals. First goal; get up them stairs and sort you lot out. I see you ain't done nothing to the place Dave. What you been up to then?"

All eyes turned to Dave, his face looked like thunder, his left eye twitched as he swigged at his empty can, gathering his baccy tin and lighter together he stood, hitching his trousers up as he drew himself to his full height. "Enjoying the peace from you, you interfering old trout. This it then, you going to be here all the time now? Can't a man get some bloody peace in his own home no more?"

Belinda grabbed his hand but he shook it off, grunting his anger "Dave! Don't be like that. Ain't it great? And Charles helping and all" she smiled weakly at Charles whilst Dave glared at him in disgust. "You can go right off a person" he muttered and with one last glare he stomped out to the hall, rifling through the spare change jar for some cash. Annoyed with the time it was taking he picked up the jar,and struggling to put on his jacket one handed he stormed out of the door, slamming it behind him as he left.

* * *

The older children had retreated upstairs shortly after Dave's exit, escaping the tense atmosphere of the living room. Bella turned on the TV, and took up her phone once again, her attention flitting between the two screens. Nan rested on the sofa, the exertion of the morning catching up with her. It was as peaceful as it was ever going to get. In the kitchen Molly was tackling the pile of washing up from the day before that no one had got round to clearing; as soon as a pan or knife was clean Belinda would use it, peeling veg, wrapping leftovers in foil to reheat them for lunch. No one spoke about Dave's tantrum or speculated when he would be back. They all knew he would be back when the money ran out or the football ended, whichever was later.

Belinda opened a bottle of wine. One of the few perks of her job as a teaching assistant was the gifts of wine and chocolates from grateful parents; this year the parents had been generous which Dave had taken as a green light to spend more of the Christmas budget on beer. The kitchen filled with steam from the boiling pans and condensation misted the windows. Music filtered through the hatch from the living room and Belinda began to hum along. She wiggled and bounced on the balls of her feet, shuffling back and forth on the worn patch of Lino in front of the cooker. An old tune came on and before long she was lost in a world of her own, dancing on the spot and using a wooden spoon as a microphone instead of stirring the gravy. Molly started to clear the table of piles of ironing and wiped down the spots of congealed gravy and brandy sauce from yesterday's lunch. Nan, waking from her little nap heaved herself from the chair and made her way into the kitchen, gravitating to the noise and bustle of the steamy room almost out of habit.

"Ere, mum" whispered Belinda in a voice nowhere near quiet enough to be private "I ain't heard nothing about a wedding, do you reckon he's bollocksed it up?" She nodded conspiratorially in the direction of the living room, and took a quick peek to see if Charles had heard her. Charles was standing by the table holding a pile of the kids art work and wondering where the hell he was supposed to put it as every surface was covered.

"I didn't see no ring either" Nan's mouth was set in a grim line "gawd only knows what's holding him up this time, maybe the wind ain't in the right direction or summat."

"Did he say he was gonna ask her at Christmas?"

"That's what I thought but I ain't seen a ring"

"Maybe he's not got a ring"

"Nah, boy scout like him, he's the type to have a ring all ready and waiting."

"Yeah, even Dave had a ring ready when he asked me." Belinda was briefly wistful until Nan took the opportunity to burst her bubble with a sharp word.

"Ratners weren't it? Didn't you come out in a rash?"

"It's the thought that counts mum" Belinda tried to defend Dave "I bet he's got her something dead classy. Dead expensive and.." She stopped mid sentence as Molly walked into the kitchen.

"What are you two gabbing about?" She asked noticing that they stopped talking as she came into the room.

"Nothing love" replied Belinda, her tone too breezy "ere, you ain't said nothing about your Christmas, how was it?"

"Lovely. Margaret always goes to town on the decorations; the place looked great"

"Lovely big house like that she can afford to" Belinda muttered, ripping a piece of tin foil aggressively, but too short, scrunching it up and chucking it in the corner in frustration.

"Not that you haven't made the house lovely mum, it looks great" Molly rushed to reassure her.

"There's not much you can do to polish a turd" Nan passed her judgement bluntly "Mum!" Belinda bristled "Yeah Nan, that ain't helping" Molly took her mother's side, "Mum always tries her hardest for us all, and the house looks dead nice"

"A few scraggy ends of tinsel don't hide the fact your dad ain't got off his arse since I was last up here. You want to keep him in line Belinda, but then you always did let him get away with murder."

"Don't start, mum, I mean it" Belinda turned to face her mother "I've had it up to here with trying to keep this place going, and you sitting there like lady bleedin bountiful telling me where I'm coming up short ain't ruddy well helping."

Nan pursed her lips, sitting straight in her chair as if she was going to start up again, Molly shot her a look, silently hoping that for once in her life Nan would keep schtum. It seemed to work; as Belinda turned her attention back to the gravy and Nan made an effort to change the subject with neither tact nor skill.

"So then, what did wonder boy out there get you for Christmas then Molls?" She looked pointedly at the bare fingers of Molly's left hand.

"These. Look." Molly flicked her hair over her shoulder, bending down to show Nan her ear, her finger behind the lobe. "Ain't they nice?"

"Is that it?" Nan queried

"Ere, give us a look" Belinda butted in, looking at the small gold stud that Molly was eagerly showing off like it was a magnificent jewel. "Oh. Well it's the thought aint it?" she shrugged turning back to the gravy that still refused to thicken.

"No mum, they're lovely. Proper gold and that."

"Well, yeah, not saying they ain't nice, just...well they ain't exactly flash are they?"

"Well no, but they fit with regulations, so I can wear them every day. I couldn't wear nothing flashy when I'm in uniform"

"Suppose not" Belinda carried on stirring the pan "Mum, you want to take a look at this gravy, it ain't doing what it's supposed to?"

Nan sighed, pushing herself to her feet and making her way to the cooker "Why ain't you just using granules?"

"Cos I thought I do it proper like, but it ain't thickening up"

"That's why granules was invented, save you the bother. Put any flour in it?"

"Well yeah, but I reckon it's not enough. Should I bung some more in?"

Molly sighed, leaving them to get on with their conversations. She knew what they were saying, they expected more of Charles, or at least his wallet. The house in Bath, his accent made them think he was always going to be providing for her. That's what everyone seemed to think; that she was lucky to have him; that she was made for life. They didn't see the huge maintenance payments he made to Rebecca, the eye-watering school fees, the frankly ridiculous amount of money they had spent on a tiny house in Aldershot. The long hours he worked for less money than he got in the Army. Yes his background gave him connections that money couldn't buy, and she didn't doubt if they needed to they could earn more, but they were both doing something they loved, the money was enough for now and her promotion meant a bit more coming in.

She loved the earrings, they meant she wore a little bit of him with her every day now. They might not be flashy but they were thoughtful. When Charles had held up the box last night she had briefly thought that this was it, the big moment, but then she realised that in Charles' mind the right moment was unlikely to be her wedged against the washing machine in his parents' utility room. The grin on his face was a dead giveaway to the fact that he was enjoying this tease, and was looking to milk it for as much as he could. She had called his bluff, hopping down from the counter and insisting that they go back to join his family, feigning nonchalance at the prospect of opening a little velvet box in the company of an audience. Two could play at that game, she had held out for the theatrics and he came up short, mumbling something as he passed the box to her as quietly as he could. His parents had watched on with baited breath, while Sam had been oblivious to the situation, glued to a youtube video on his phone.

Molly grabbed a pile of cutlery from the drainer, leaving her Mum and Nan in an uneasy truce over the gravy. "Everything alright in there?" Charles asked as they worked their way around the table, laying knives and forks. "No worse than usual." Molly replied "I think we're safe until mum starts on her third glass"

"Are we setting a place for Dave?" he asked

"Nah, don't bother. Ain't likely to see him for a bit"

"Does that mean I'm going to miss out on his 'are you a leg or breast man' routine?" Charles asked with mock petulance. "That's the best part"

"I'm sure mum can oblige if you like" she grinned "besides, we all know you're an arse man really" she winked at him.

Charles moved slowly around the table, standing close, he picked up a strand of her hair and curled it around his finger "You'd better not be thinking of distracting me with your arse Dawes," he muttered into her ear "because that sort of behaviour is a serious disciplinary matter."

Molly poked her finger in his side, causing him to jerk to the side "Discipline? Did you have a lend of Nan's 50 shades DVD while I was away or something?

"It's Christmas, have a heart" Charles dodged the volley of fingers aimed at his ribs as Molly chased him to the other side of the room, jumping over the coffee table, his legs a little too long as he misjudged his step, landing on the sofa along from Bella. Molly sat on top of him, trying to aim her hands at his ribs as he wriggled underneath her, deflecting all her attempts. He giggled like a school boy, kicking his legs out and knocking a pile of laundry off the arm of the sofa. His height advantage soon won out over Molly, pinning her arms against her sides he rolled her off him, using the length of his body to hold her in the crook of the sofa back. Molly barely put up more than a token struggle, enjoying the feeling of his body moving against hers, pressing herself sensuously into him in return. "You're not playing fair" he gasped against her ear.

"Jesus, get a room" Bella complained from the far corner of the other sofa.

"Yours free Bells?" Molly sniggered,trying to sit up, but finding herself still pinned against the cushions by Charles, the reason why becoming obvious against her thigh. She caught Charles' eye and grinding against it grinned at him. He shot her a stern look, backing away from her as much as he could. "Don't be disgusting Molly" Bella scoffed her disapproval, and picking up her phone she turned, yelling towards the kitchen "Mum! Tell Molly to leave off! Mum!" Charles used the distraction to adjust himself, releasing Molly and hastily sitting on the sofa, crossing his legs and wincing as he did so.

No reply came from the kitchen, so Bella stood, "Mum!" she called, "Mum!" There was a clatter of pans from the kitchen as Belinda stormed into the living room "What?" she snapped at Bella "Molly and Charles were...well it's disgusting I shouldn't have to see that"

"For god's sake Bella, grow up, I was just teasing" Molly chimed in.

"Well I don't want to see all that lovey dovey bollocks"

"I'm surprised you can see anything past your phone screen"

"Well, at least I got mates"

"Candy Crush ain't mates you know"

"Enough" roared Belinda "I've just about as much as I can take from you ruddy kids. Just bloody well wind your necks in the pair of you. Molly," she pointed to the sisters in turn "finish setting the table; Bella, go upstairs and tell them lot to come down, dinner's ready. And you," she turned her attention to Charles who was uncomfortably trying to avoid his mother in law's gaze, "stay there and keep your hands to yourself." She turned and stomped back to the kitchen, Bella narrowed her eyes at Molly before flouncing up the stairs, clumping her feet heavily on each tread to communicate her dissatisfaction with everything.

* * *

Gravy aside, lunch went down a treat. Now everyone was full they were in a much more relaxed and easygoing mood than they had been 45 minutes before. Nan sat at the head of the table, ruling over her family like a well established matriarch, Belinda eventually stopped fussing and rushing back and forth from the kitchen for this and that and settled down with a glass of wine. Molly and Bella seemed to come to a truce and even Dave, though still absent from the table, was so pleased with a positive half time score for The Hammers had forgotten his sulk with his family and phoned a touching, albeit drunken message to Belinda.

The adults sat around the table at the end of the meal, bellies full and pressing against their waistbands, none of them able to muster the will to move or clear up. The children were in a friendly mob by the sofas, playing with toys, wrestling and teasing one another. The room was loud and chaotic and a jumble of noise, all of which Belinda smiled at. Her family almost all gathered in one place, everyone was happy, and her work over for a few hours. She poured herself the last of the wine, and smiled contentedly at the scene telling herself that it was all perfect, and nothing to do with the haze of alcohol she was seeing it through.

Nan was beginning to flag a little, the large meal and warm house having a soporific effect; her head drooping as her eyes seemed incapable of staying open even with the din made by the children. Molly caught Charles' eye and inclined her head towards the drowsy woman, he nodded slightly before leaning over and touching her gently on the shoulder "let's get you somewhere more comfy, eh Nan?" He tucked his hand under her arm, letting her push herself up against him. "Ere Molls, you better watch this one" she leant on him more than was strictly necessary "propositioning other women when you're still in the room" she made a show of continuing to lean against him as he led her to the sofa. "Yeah yeah Nan, sharpen those claws and hunt him down, you old cougar" Molly teased as she started to stack plates and move them into the kitchen. "I think there's some mistletoe in my bag if you don't mind fetching it Charlie love" she gave his side a squeeze "You're going to need more than mistletoe" he murmured peeling her hand from his side as she lowered herself onto the sofa. "I could run to a tube of voltarol, but I've left my decent drugs at home, more's the pity" she giggled, pleased with her joke. "But now I've got you to myself for a few moments I think we need to have a chat" Charles glanced longingly at the table, suddenly wishing he'd had the foresight to volunteer for clearing it rather than being stuck in a whispered interrogation with a forthright old woman.

"I told you; in my own time" he tried to instil some authority in his voice, but as it seemed with most of the people in his life these days, Nan just ignored it and ploughed on.

"Well time ain't a luxury that some of us have too much of" she hissed at him, her voice carrying over the sudden lull in noise as the kids noticed that Nan was working up to one of her lectures.

"Nonsense; come the apocalypse it will be you and the cockroaches, and I don't rate their chances" Charles tried to fob her off. He was met with stony silence and a look that could curdle milk.

"Ain't none of us getting any younger" she insisted, getting in the last word as usual. He let her have it, aware of the audience across the other side of the room, six pairs of eyes watching him, in the periphery of his vision he could make out Belinda hovering by the door. The only the sound was Molly tunelessly humming over the sound of running water in the kitchen. He got to his feet, stretching to his full height before returning to the table and starting to stack plates, turning his back on all of them. After a pause the kids began to chatter and Belinda moved to the table, clearing from the other side. The air crackled with tension, Charles could sense the looks passing between her and Nan but refused to look up. He felt a small surge of sympathy for Dave, and wished he were here so he could step outside briefly on the pretence of keeping him company while he had a smoke. Charles had never been much of a smoker unless you counted a couple of cigarettes at the far end of the rugby pitches at school; a very small and tokenistic rebellion that every 15 year old seemed to go through, but right now he wished he had some excuse to step out and take a breather from the claustrophobia of this little house crammed full of people and the weight of their expectations. He briefly wondered whether he could hunt down whatever pub Dave had escaped to and keep him company, but a drunk Dave wasn't exactly a tempting prospect either. "Only a few hours" he muttered to himself. A small harrumph from the sofa signalled that Nan realised that the conversation was over and Charles dropped his shoulders a little. He looked at the pile of plates in his hands and realised that his best chance of a quiet hour or so lay in tackling the piles of dishes in the kitchen; not only would it mean time to himself, it would also earn him brownie points with Belinda, and he needed an ally against Nan.

* * *

Steam rose from the sink as he squirted a generous dose of washing up liquid under the running tap. The inevitable tussle of "there's no need" and "no, I insist" with Belinda had been mercifully short. He wasn't sure how long he could keep the sincerity in his voice; of course no one wanted to do the washing up, especially when you were as tall as he was and had to stoop awkwardly to reach the sink. Molly had left him to it, possibly sensing his need for escape, or more likely he thought, to get out doing more dishes seeing as she had done most of them once already. He didn't mind really, no one could begrudge Belinda a little break, god only knew no one else in the house appeared to give her one.

He could hear the kids in the hallway, drying his hands on a soggy tea towel he leant against the door frame as they gathered at the foot of the stairs. Tommy was typing on his phone as Martin hunted through a pile of shoes for the matching pair to his trainers. Finding it he squeezed his foot in, not loosening the straps to ease the job. Sam glanced up, noticing his dad. "Just heading out to the park; is that ok dad?" his eyes almost pleaded with his desire to be out with Molly's brothers, for his dad not to say something embarrassing, or worse still, refuse. Charles relented, "Of course. Just behave yourself, alright? We'll be making a move about five, so be back for then, OK?" He tried to sound nonchalant, he worried when Sam was out in London. He knew Molly thought he was ridiculous, but Sam was not a city kid; he was sheltered, gauche even, compared with Molly's brothers. Sometimes Molly would tell tales of what she had got up to in her teenage years that made Charles worry even now with physical proof in front of him that she survived it all. A ghost of a smile flickered over Sam's face but he swiftly contained it before it could be spotted, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet to release his excitement. Charles turned, smiling to himself, feeling that a few simple gestures from him in the past few days had done more for his relationship with his son than all the little chats had in the last few months.

* * *

The door to her old room had barely changed since Molly had moved out. The yellowing gloss was chipped in places, the pink pony stickers that she had stuck over it a lifetime ago had faded, their glitter long since rubbed off. A few of them curled at the edges, some ripped where she'd tried peeling them off when she decided she had outgrown such things, but then got bored with effort required for her new, grown up life. The remains of a Dave-sized boot mark could still be made out at the bottom, the legacy of a fierce argument when he had caught her getting too friendly with a boy in the stairwell to the flats. She couldn't even remember his name, but she knew that there was a corresponding chip of paint missing on the other side where she had thrown a can of hairspray at the locked door, while Dave was on the other side shouting the odds at her. Every scratch, scuff and scrape told a story. Over the years Bella had added some of her own legacy to the door, more stickers, aggressive instructions to her siblings to keep out, and no doubt more knocks courtesy of yet more disagreements.

Molly didn't really have much of a clue what was going on with Bella, she heard things second hand mostly through phone calls from Belinda. She and Charles joked that they ran through a regular pattern, first it would be she never left the house, did she not have any friends, was she one of them weird kids that stayed in their rooms all day, was she ever going to go out and find a job or a bloke or ever leave home, then it would be that she was never off her phone, did Molly think she was being safe online, who was she online with, was she being groomed by someone, why didn't she go out see some real friends? Inevitably Bella frustrated from the relentless attentions of her mother would disappear for a few days which was the cue for fraught telephone calls to Molly and Charles, who would normally get through to her phone on the first ring to find that Bella was simply screening the calls from her mum. In the end Bella would come home, refusing to talk; and Belinda so pleased to see her again wouldn't push it and never made much effort to find out where she had gone.

Stood on the landing Molly couldn't make out any sound beyond the door. With the children out the house was uncharacteristically quiet, there was no tv, no radio, no computer games, not even the sound of any voices. Molly knocked softly "Bella?" she pushed the door open, it stuck on something. Molly bent down, pulling out a t shirt that had become wedged underneath it. She opened the door fully, the room hadn't substantially changed since it had been hers. The posters were different, Molly's tastes updated and replaced by her sisters but the furniture remained the same; the pine bunk beds, the strings of fairy lights, the small desk wedged between the bed and wardrobe; all as it once was. The floor was carpeted in cast off clothes, fabric seemed to be spewing from every drawer and cupboard; flashes of colour between acres of blue and black, scrunched up tights, socks, brightly coloured bras and pants cast over the floor thoughtlessly. There wasn't even a path through the mess to where Bella lay, the duvet hanging off the side of the bed, soft toys tumbling down its surface to the floor below. "Fuck me Bells, this place is a tip" Molly gasped at the state of the place. Less than a week ago she had been dishing out a dressing down to one of her new recruits over the state of her locker, a locker where everything was hanging up, albeit haphazardly; it didn't look to Molly that Bella even knew what a coat hanger looked like. Without conscious thought she started to fold the t shirt in her hand as she spoke, placing it on the closed lid of Bella's laptop, the only clear surface in the room "what do you want?" Bella asked petulantly glaring at Molly. "I dunno" Molly shrugged "a chat? If I stay down there much longer Charles is going to want a hand with the washing up." She pulled a face, "thought I could hide out up here with you" She paused mid way through folding a pair of jeans, holding them up and noticing the label "ere, these are nice. They must be making good knock offs these days" she held them against her, the legs miles too long for her. Bella leant forward, snatching them from her hands. "Did I ask you to pick up after me?"

Molly stared down at her empty hands, startled at the defensiveness of her sister's behaviour. She took a deep breath, gathering her temper before it got the better of her. She picked her way over the clothes-strewn floor hoping that she didn't stand on anything that crunched. Luckily the room was small so it was the matter of a few steps and she made it to the bed without incident. "What you up to?" She asked as she sat on the edge of her old bed. "Nothing" replied Bella, picking up her phone. She started typing, her fingers moving quickly on the screen. The phone pinged quietly and Bella chuckled before typing again.

"Didn't you fancy going out with the rest of them?" Molly kept on trying to engage with her sister. "I ain't a kid, why would I want to hang around in a cold playground?" Bella's tone was dismissive. "Been up to much recently? Out with your mates or something?" "No" came the curt reply. Bella's phone pinged again and she turned her attention to it. Molly sighed "Can't you leave that bloody thing alone for 5 minutes Bells? I'd get more conversation out of a brick wall." Bella glanced up "I didn't ask you to come up here" she replied moodily but she put her phone down beside her on the bed. It pinged and she made a point of not looking at it.

"I just wanted to see how you were; you know have a chat and that." Molly tried again

"Did mum send you up here or something?"

"No. Why would she?"

"Because you sound just like her. 'What are you doing?' 'Why don't you go out with your mates?' And then when I do go out she wants to know where, who I'm seeing. Gets right on my wick."

"She's just worried"

"Bloody nosy more like."

"She just wants to know you're ok. You give her a little and she'll back off" Molly leant back on the bed, tucking her feet underneath her. Something glittery poking out of the wardrobe door caught her eye, she pointed at it "do you mind?" she asked. Bella shrugged which Molly took as a no. She opened the wardrobe door, clothes were piled up in a heap, reaching halfway up the cupboard. Just peaking out was a sequinned skirt; Molly tugged at it, extricating it from the pile. She held it up against herself. The hem skimmed somewhere around the top of her thighs "oh my god I thought I'd thrown this out. I can't believe it's still here"

"Are you joking, this place is still full of your shit. There's piles of it" Bella gestured at the wardrobe. A quick glance by Molly couldn't see anything that she recognised as once belonging to her. She stood and started to look through the clothes. As she pulled out yet another pair of jeans she noticed a carrier bag scrunched up and buried at the back of the cupboard. It was a thick paper bag, the type you normally got in upmarket shops, with ribbon handles and the shop name in embossed letters; a far cry from the flimsy bags from the market where she used to do most of her shopping when she was broke and living at home. She glanced inside quickly, trying not to let Bella see what she was doing. Whatever was in the bag was still wrapped in pale duck egg blue tissue paper. Molly shut the bag quickly returning it to where she had found it, wedged at the back of the cupboard.

"None of this stuff looks like it's mine" she turned to Bella, lying back on the bottom bunk, idly fiddling with a tassel on the edge of a blanket "but if you find stuff you don't want just stick it on ebay or something, eh? If I haven't used it in this long I doubt I'm gonna miss it."

"Don't see why I should do your work" she replied not looking up. Somewhere in the depths of the bedcovers a phone started ringing. Molly sighed and Bella kept in fiddling.

"Whatever you make, you can keep. It's not like I'm gonna miss the stuff. Might as well make a few quid off it, eh?" The phone stopped ringing and Molly sat on the bed again. "But everything's alright with you and that ain't it? I mean.." The phone started ringing again, cutting Molly off mid-sentence.

"Ain't mine," Bella shrugged holding up her phone, it's screen blank and lifeless.

"Shit." Molly rummaged through the covers finally locating her phone. She glanced at the screen, a quizzical expression on her face. Swiping to pick up the call she placed it to her ear "Tommy?...Wait,...what?" Her tone rose with each word "Calm down…..I can't…...Sam?"

 **Thanks to Lesley and BK for their insights into teenage girl behaviour, it's a long time since I was one! Also thanks to whajeb and jenmc for their long suffering patience as I moan, grumble and procrastinate over this story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Did I say no angst? I lied.**

Charles heard her before he saw her; or rather he heard her thundering down the stairs, heavy feet crashing onto bare floorboards. "Charles. It's Sam" just three words barked quickly over her shoulder as she made for the door, snatching her bag off the end of the bannister on the way past. The door was flung wide and Molly was halfway to the stairwell by the time Charles had turned around from the sink, cold panic squeezing his gut as the words filtered into his consciousness. Not stopping to dry his hands he rushed to the front door and onto the balcony. Below him Molly emerged onto the street from the door to the block, cutting past their car and across the gravel to the street that ran perpendicular to Rochford Close. "Molly!" he shouted as she disappeared around the back of the Working Men's club opposite "Molly!" but she was gone from sight, not even pausing to look back at him. He dashed back into the house, searching for his shoes and coat in the pile that littered the entrance. Belinda stood at the door to the living room staring blankly at Bella who had got as far as halfway down the stairs.

"Where's she going, Bella?" Charles barked at her in a voice neither had heard before; abrupt, authoritarian "Where?"

"Umm" Bella seemed flustered, unusually tongue tied and reticent. "It was Tommy. He phoned. I dunno she told him to calm down, then said it was Sam and then she took off"

"Where to? Where are they?"

Bella shrugged "They was taking Martin to the playground, so I suppose nearest is Priory Park"

"Where's that?" He turned to Belinda, shrugging his coat over his shoulders

"That way" she pointed out the door, "up the road, well one road along, at the top" he looked blankly at her "you took the kids there in the summer" a distant memory took shape in his mind; a slow amble up the road with Molly, Martin racing ahead jumping over the cracks in the pavement before running back and grasping both of them by the hand as he demanded to be swung in the air between them. The sun had beaten down on the tarmac and buildings on each side of the road, the relentless heat barely dissipating in the small sliver of parched dry municipal park and playground behind an empty community centre. He hadn't paid attention to the route, but a half memory was forming in his mind, he turned, slamming the door behind him as he ran along the walkway to the stairs.

* * *

Molly's handbag thumped against her thigh as her feet pounded on the cold wet pavement. She gave a quiet tut, pushing it around her body and it bounced against her right buttock, no less annoying but not in the way anymore. With each step she took the bag worked its way closer to the front of her body; every twenty paces or so she pushed it back again, her mind focused on getting to the park as fast as she could. She knew she had to hurry, she pushed herself harder and harder, her mind clear and focused on the task ahead.

She ducked through a gap between two buildings at the corner of the road, green paint flaking off a low arch, announcing the entrance to the park, an asphalt path wove a twisting route until the narrow strip opened up, a half avenue of trees running up the park's boundary, the other side was a collection of tired looking play equipment surrounded by a low fence. In the distance stood a small group, Molly made her way towards them, vaulting effortlessly over the fences dividing the play equipment. A loose gaggle of teenagers stood around looking on with morbid curiosity at the long limbed Sam as he lay on the ground, propped up by Tommy who was muttering something over and over under his breath like a mantra. Molly pushed past the spectators, scrabbling in her bag for the wide plastic tube. Beneath her Sam's face was an angry pink, flushed and swollen as he wheezed for shallow breaths between his swollen lips. Tearing the cap from the tube Molly stabbed the other end into his thigh, through his jeans. Sam didn't even flinch. She started her countdown from ten, searching his face for any sign that her actions were working, even though she knew it was too soon. Finally at zero she pulled out the needle, propping up Sam's leg and rubbing firmly at the injection site. His breath became less laboured, the rattling wheeze quietening as the adrenaline began to take effect. Molly turned to Tommy "You called the ambulance like I said?" He nodded, barely catching her eye. She reached out, holding onto his upper arm, his body shaking beneath her hands. "You did good. You did all you could, OK?" Her eyes flicked over Sam, his face less swollen and distorted than it had been thirty seconds ago, although his skin still looked stretched and shiny. His breath came slower now, the wheeze less audible than it had been. She took off her jumper, wrapping it over Sam as he started to shiver. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out a small group of teenagers shuffling awkwardly, moving slowly to the side, craning their necks to see. Molly moved her body in front of Sam, shielding him from their gaze. She brushed the hair from his eyes, "Sammy" his eyes flickered to hers "how you doing?" He nodded, turning away and closing them, avoiding her. He started to shiver, his skin paling visibly "Tommy, put your coat round him, he needs to be kept warm" she ordered

"Is he OK Molls? He looks terrible"

"He'll be fine, it's just shock and the adrenaline, we need keep him warm till the ambulance comes." She looked over her shoulder "and you lot can bleedin well go home and all, ain't nothing to see here" the group shrank back momentarily, shuffling backwards and in the process failing to fully hide the bottle of blue liquid behind them. Molly looked across at Liam, holding Martin's hand and the other around a visibly upset Leah. "Liam, why don't you take them home, get em a hot chocolate or something? Tell mum everything's under control and I'll call her in a bit, OK?" She gave him the best reassuring smile she could and Liam smiled wanly in return, his eyes worriedly flicking over Sam, reluctant to leave him "Go on, the kids are getting cold". Liam muttered something to his sister who nodded, wiping tears from her eyes and they turned as one for home.

"What the bloody hell were you doing out here, Tommy" she hissed. Tommy looked guilty and dropped his head "you were supposed to be looking out for them not drinking with your mates. She leant closer, sniffing his jacket "And don't tell me that were a fag you were smoking, because I've smelt milder on an ANA."

"Sam didn't have none, I swear."

"And Liam?" Tommy shook his head.

"You sure?" Tommy nodded.

"When Charles gets here, you and your gawking mates had better make yourself scarce, alright? But this ain't over, go home and wait for me, ok?" She fished in her handbag, and passed him a packet of gum. "Have some of this, mum don't need the extra worry"

Behind Tommy Molly could see a man in a green uniform running towards them, she stood and waved to attract his attention, almost at the same moment Charles drew to a halt beside her "What the hell.." he sank to his knees beside Sam "Sam? Sam!" Molly reached down, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance but he shook her off.

* * *

Shortly after the first paramedic arrived the ambulance was on the scene. Molly debriefed them, giving them details of treatment she had given Sam. They wrapped him in a foil blanket and got him onto a trolley. She followed Charles as they made their way to the ambulance past the small crowd that had gathered to see what all the fuss was about. Charles was visibly shaken as he walked alongside Sam, who was trying his hardest not to meet anyone's gaze. Molly shivered, finally feeling the chill of the cold winter air. As they loaded Sam into the ambulance Charles turned to her, unbuttoning his jacket and wrapping it over her shivering shoulders "I'll ride with Sam, OK" It was a statement, not a question. "Can you pack up and meet me at the hospital? We're likely to be there a while" she nodded in response, her teeth chattering despite being wrapped in the warmth of his coat. He briefly pulled her close, his lips resting on her forehead "thank you" he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. Before she could reply he was gone, climbing into the back of the ambulance and settling into a seat as a paramedic slammed the rear door shut. Around her Molly could hear the voices of the spectators, mumbling and muttering, their accents merging into one homogeneous noise. She felt a tap on her shoulder and looking up she saw the face of an elderly lady, clutching a thin cardigan across her chest against the chill. Her concerned eyes were grey and watered in the cold wind her eyelids sagging with age. "You alright, duck?" she asked. Molly nodded mutely, sniffing back a tear "only you ain't got no shoes on". Molly looked down at her wet socks, realising the old lady was right.

* * *

"I'm afraid if you aren't legally responsible for the child then I can't give you any details, madam" the receptionist barely flickered her attention up from her keyboard as Molly sighed in frustration.

"Look, I know they're here" she did her best to keep her tone reasonable "my fiancé said they'd gone to paediatric A&E" this bit was stretching the truth but Molly figured a bit of embellishing wouldn't hurt anyone. "I know, I know" she held her hands up to cut off the receptionist before she started on her patient confidentiality bit again "you can't tell me nothing, but can you let 'em know I'm here? Please?" She gave her most pleading look at the tired woman behind the desk. She gave the smallest nod, enough to convey that she would without obviously breaching any hospital protocols "If you take a seat I'll see what I can do" she nodded at the banks of orange plastic seats, signalling that the conversation was over. She looked over Molly's shoulder at the next person in the queue "Yes sir, can I help?"

Molly took her seat at the end of a row, trying to sit as far as possible from the young man bent double, coughing and sniffling his head shielded by a thick hood, and equally far from the nervous looking middle aged woman who looked exactly like the sort who would start chatting away, bending her ear about bloody nonsense all night. From this position she could see a little way down the corridor, not as far as the paediatric section, but if anyone should come to look for her she would be quick to spot. She rested her foot across her knee, jiggling her leg with nervous tension; after a few moments she shifted again toying with the buttons on her jacket. She didn't know how long she waited, it could have been five minutes or twenty, however long it was time dragged, as she continued to shift in her seat. Eventually movement down the corridor caught her eye, looking up she saw Charles pause half way down; catching her eye he inclined his head, beckoning her to come. She could see the tension on his face as she drew close, his hands on his hips, his normally neat hair ruffled. He looked drawn, worry etched in the lines on his face. She stopped a few paces in front of him, shifting her bag from her hand to her shoulder. "How's he doing?" she asked quietly.

"Ok" Charles' sighed, rubbing his hands over his face "probably more shaken than anything, but he's not really saying much." Molly gave a small smile, trying to elicit some response but he remained impassive "He won't tell me what happened. Or why he wasn't carrying anything" he rubbed his face again "I've got to call Rebecca soon, I'm really not looking forward to that either."

Molly grabbed his hand before he could rub his face a third time, bringing it down to his side and giving it a small squeeze. "You look done in. Why don't you go find a coffee and call Rebecca, I can sit with him if you like. Give you a break, eh?"

Charles nodded but then became agitated at the thought of the questions Rebecca would fire at him, questions he had no way of answering "What the fuck happened Molly? I thought this was under control, that he knew what he had to avoid."

"Shh" she moved her hand up his arm, gently stroking his shirt sleeve. "Just let her know he's ok, we can sort the rest out later. Take a break eh?"

He looked at her, his eyes heavy and tired, showing the strain of the afternoon "Are you sure it wasn't anything he picked up at your parents? Could it have been?"

"Mum knows not to have any of that stuff around when Sam comes, I don't think it was anything from there"

"But it could have been anything Molly, you know that, she hadn't exactly been round with the hoover before we came"

Molly bristled slightly, feeling protective of her family under what she thought was uncalled for criticism, she took a moment to gather herself before replying, not wanting to spark an argument now "If it happened at home then it would have happened sooner, I'm sure of it"

Charles took a long breath out, putting his hands in his pockets before looking down at his shoes "Why won't he talk to me Molly? Am I really such a terrible father that he won't confide in me?"

"Come 'ere" Molly pulled him towards her, wrapping her arms around his torso. He relaxed slightly but she could feel the tension in his back muscles "He's just a teenager is all, he'll come round, you just gotta give him the room to come to you. Don't push him."

Charles absentmindedly patted her shoulder, not really joining in with the hug before he stepped back, breaking the contact. He turned, walking back the way he came, Molly following at a distance; the irony of a man who held his feelings in complaining about his son not being forthcoming enough was not lost on her. They made their way into a larger room, divided off into eight or so cubicles, a nurses station at the far end with a few staff in scrubs. Charles led her to one of the cubicles, decorated with cartoon characters which seemed too cheerful and aimed at children younger than Sam.

Sam lay on the bed, covered in a thin blanket. His eyes were closed but he obviously wasn't asleep, it was just another tactic to avoid talking to anyone. A blood oxygen monitor was attached to his finger and in the corner of the cubicle a machine winked a silent read out. Molly couldn't hold back from taking a cursory glance, his pulse and oxygen levels looked good. Charles picked up his coat from the back of a plastic chair alongside the bed. "Right, Molly's here now and I'm going to get a coffee. Anything you want champ?" he addressed Sam's back. Sam barely looked up, giving a quiet "no" in response before rolling over and turning his back once more. Molly shrugged at Charles, "bring us back a tea, eh?" she asked. Charles nodded.

She drew the chair closer to the bed, hanging her coat off the back and settled down. Sam stayed curled up, doing his best to ignore her presence. The monitor flickered in the corner of the room and beyond the curtain the noises of the busy department carried on around them. An uncomfortable silence sat between Molly and Sam and she let it drag out, seeing how long it would take before he showed any sign of cracking. The minutes ticked by, and Molly had to admit that she was impressed by his resolve to ignore everything about the situation. She reached into her bag and pulled out her hairbrush, and began to try and untangle her hair. Sam slowly began to uncurl, relaxing slightly before turning to face Molly, watching as she finally managed to pull the brush through her hair from root to tip. She pulled her hair into a ponytail low at the nape of her neck before looking up. She held the brush out to Sam "Wanna do yours and all?" He shook his head.

"You know, I'm trying to work out what's more embarrassing for you right now. Admitting to yourself that you were stupid for not taking your injector with you today, or admitting to your dad and me that you was kissing a girl" she tilted her head to one side watching the blush creep up Sam's face as he squirmed under her gaze. "I'm gonna say the second bit, mainly cos I expect your dad has already bent your ear about the first bit and you ain't mentioned it yet."

She put her brush back in her bag, zipping it shut before she carried on. "Ain't nothing to be worried about, your dad's gonna probably be just as embarrassed as you. You two ain't that different really."

"I'm nothing like him" Sam seemed more affronted at this than anything else Molly had said all weekend.

"Well, you're an earlier starter than him, I'll give you that. Did you know he never even kissed a girl till he was 17?"

Sam giggled then stopped abruptly, remembering he was trying to avoid the conversation. "He reckons an all boys boarding school wasn't the best environment for meeting girls." Sam gave a little snort.

"How did you know?"

"Liam told me. He was dead worried about you so don't go blaming him. Can I text him and tell him you're doing ok?" Sam shrugged before muttering "suppose"

"What is it?" She asked, she had hoped that she had managed to pry him open over this but he clammed up again.

"It's so embarrassing Molly" He tucked his legs up and started to fiddle with his toes through his blanket. "I'm already a freak, and then this...everybody _saw_ "

"Ok Sam; first off you ain't a freak. You got an allergy. There's ways to manage that and you got caught out. And as for the people, it's not like you need to see any of 'em ever again. Well, apart from Liam and Tommy, they want to see you again, obviously" She realised she was talking to the top of his head but carried on regardless "This ain't gonna happen every time you kiss a girl you know; you might just gonna need to be careful about who you kiss, check they ain't been eating peanut M&Ms first, you know?."

" _Molly_ " he protested, desperate for her to stop talking, but Molly thought that this needed to be like a plaster, ripped off in one excruciating moment. "Sammy love, you got years of this ahead, you're gonna meet people you like and you gonna have to be a more careful than others. Maybe start small, don't go snogging no one until you've been around em for a couple of hours? People what matter won't mind. Some might even think more of you for taking your time."

" _Molly. Please"_ Sam was almost pleading with her now, his head resting on his knees as he tried to make his gangly frame fold into the smallest possible shape, all she could see beyond his hair was the tips of his ears, glowing bright red.

"Alright, I'll stop for now, but you know I gotta tell your Dad" Sam's head whipped up, panic draining the blush from his face "You can't" he wailed.

"Sam, he's going out of his mind with worry, trying to work out what happened; he has to know, if you ain't gonna tell him I have to."

"I _hate_ you." he spat the words at her, flinging all the vitriol he could summon her way. "I hate that you're with Dad. I don't know what he sees in you. I don't want you here any more" with that he pulled the thin hospital blanket over his shoulders, his feet poking out from the other end. He tucked the blanket around his ears, turning his back to Molly.

She paused, taken aback by the force of his words, they stung her more than she expected. She and Sam had always enjoyed a much more relaxed relationship than one of parent and child, she loved him dearly, but her easy going relationship had been because she had never been the one to discipline Sam, she never had that responsibility or suffered the backlash, she soothed, distracted and cajoled when they clashed horns, dissolving the tensions between father and son. Her hand shook slightly as she picked her jacket from the back of the chair, but aside from that she showed no emotion, no sign that the words he had flung at her had even been heard, let alone absorbed. She simply picked up her bag and coat and left, leaving the curtain across the cubicle open behind her as she made her way down the corridor back to the orange plastic chairs.

Halfway to the seats she stopped, leaning against the wall, resting her head in her hand as she tried not to succumb to the tears that pricked her eyes. She tried to distract herself from her emotions by focusing on the noises around her. A gust of cool air swirled down the corridor as somewhere in the depths of the unit the ambulance bay opened, she heard the clatter of trolleys, the tail end of the wail of a siren was cut off abruptly as a door closed, the far off beep of a machine and a hum of voices, urgent but calm medics going through their paces, assessing and treating. Molly shivered as a slow trickle of cold goosebumps spread from her neck, across her shoulders and over her back, the trickle of deja vu of standing fighting tears in this corridor quickly turned into a full on flood. Her stomach constricted and her mouth flooded with saliva. She struggled not to gag as she tried to swallow it, but never managed to succeed. She became aware of a smell she hadn't noticed before, the alcoholic tang of sterile wipes, latex gloves, diesel fumes. She raised her eyes, the corridor was empty but she could clearly make out voices, though the words they spoke were indistinct. Memory was engulfing her, the dark pink gash of his mouth against pale skin clear in her mind; sloping, lopsidedly one corner drooping, a clear bead of drool escaping down his chin onto the blanket. She had wanted to reach out and touch it, to wipe it away, anxious to preserve some dignity at a time when all dignity had gone.

She shook her head firmly, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes, rocking on the balls of her feet she quietly began to hum, focusing on the pitch and tone, the way she had to flex and stretch her muscles to maintain balance. Concentrating on the movement and sound to blank out the memories just as she had been taught. They faded a little, enough for her to put one foot in front of another as she walked back to the waiting room. Her chair had been taken, she made a judgement and sat closer than she would have liked to the middle aged woman. She kept her head down avoiding eye contact with anyone, down at her feet. Her trainers were wearing thin in parts, the sole starting to come away from the body of the left shoe.

A pair of clean brown boots stopped in front of her, her eyes moved up his body, dark denim clad legs, navy jumper, open necked shirt just poking out from the collar. Charles towered above her, his mouth set in a grim line, his eyes narrowed and glaring, every inch the disapproving senior officer of the past except for the paper cup in his hand. "Tea" he thrust it in her direction. She took it wordlessly, the hot liquid stinging her mouth as she took a sip.

"What happened?" He was terse, no warmth behind his words. Molly shrugged.

"I thought you were going to sit with him?"

"I did, but he looked like he needed some space"

"He's a child"

"Believe me, he knows what he wants, and it ain't me."

Charles dropped his arms, letting them swing by his side. "Rebecca wasn't happy. It was all John could do to keep her from driving up here" he rubbed his forehead, his jaw flexing with tension. Molly dropped her gaze to her feet again, wanting more than anything to be left alone, to be given time and space to deal with emotions she hadn't felt in years, to shove them back in their box and get the fuck out of this place. She became aware of her breathing, rapid and shallow, she could hear every breath in and out as it roared through her lungs, joined by the rapid wooshing of blood in her ears. Beyond that she could just make out Charles talking; the staccato intonation of his voice, all noise, she couldn't make sense of the words, her vision started to tunnel, the streaks in the grey lino appeared to waver in front of her eyes as she blinked back tears, dropping her head lower and trying to slow her breathing. As she leant forward something heavy dropped from the neckline of her t shirt, a worn leather lace; and knotted on the end of it a glint of a diamond caught the light. She grabbed onto it as it swung in front of her eyes, holding it still although it seemed to pulse in her hand. Charles had stopped talking, she could just see the toe of his boot on the edge of her field of vision. It was still, as she battled to regain control of her breathing she could feel the frustration emanating from him, his stance never wavered. Eventually she managed to draw four or five ragged breaths and summon up the courage to look up. The face she saw was one she hadn't seen in years. Distain, his eyes cold and haughty as he looked down at her and she felt just as she had done before, stood in front of a group of men she had no idea how she was going to fit in with; small, fragile, exposed. Raw with panic and adrenaline, standing on the edge of a precipice, the inevitability of the next few moments racing through her mind.

The boot didn't move; it's owner standing stock still, his hands crossed over his chest. Charles' nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in, his eyes moving from her face, down to her hand still clasped around the ring that hung from her neck. He followed her movements as she tucked it back inside her t shirt. "Are you done?" he asked, his voice low, barely rising above a whisper, Molly gave a slow blink. He turned not even checking to see if she followed him.

* * *

The winter wind was bitingly cold. It swirled and eddied around the bins at the back of the hospital. Between the bins and the service doors Charles and Molly stood facing one another. Their bodies a good two paces apart Molly with her hands shoved deep into her coat pocket, the wind ruffling the fake fur trim on the hood of her parka, her face upturned, staring at Charles "I weren't hiding anything, I didn't think it was my place to tell" she protested. Frustration radiated from Charles, his body tense with the effort of holding his temper at bay.

"I'm his father for christ's sake"

"And I had to give him a chance to tell you himself"

"He's spent the last 2 hours ignoring me, when exactly did you think we were going to have a heart to heart?"

Molly turned her back to him and walked a couple of paces away, screwing her fists up and holding them stiffly at her side, trying to work out how to relieve the frustration and anger that coursed through her body. She stood still, turning to face him and moved closer again, her pace fast and her face animated. "He's not a child no more, he deserves a chance to sort things out for himself"

"Of course he's a child"

"No he ain't. He's 13. He's starting to grow up. You need to slacken the leash or else your gonna put his back up. You gotta trust that he's got enough nouce to make good decisions"

"Like today you mean? Sticking his tongue down the throat of the first slapper who comes along? Some cheap fucking tart that hangs around playgrounds swigging alcopops god knows what else? Forgive me if I don't agree that those sort of people are good company for _my_ son. The fact that he's ended up in fucking hospital rather proves my point, don't you think?" Charles' face was turning puce as he looked down at Molly, his finger pointed towards the hospital bay doors.

Molly bristled, his tirade was too close for comfort, despite everything she was now she never felt that far away from the girl she had been. A handful of years separated her from the younger version of herself, the one swigging alcopops and more in the playground. She wasn't ancient history but palpably close, especially on days like today. She took a breath and tried not to match his temper with hers. Underneath his angry bluster there was a frightened man who had just had a reminder of the fragility of his son's life, she had to remember that; not rise to his bait. She lowered her voice. "Sam's a good looking kid, and it sounds like he's in a hurry to get on with growing up"

"Well thank god he's going back to school soon"

"And you think that's gonna solve the problem?"

"Well it will keep him away from girls like that for a start"

Molly cracked, she had enough of him dismissing everything as someone else's fault, she'd had enough of him writing off that poor girl because she didn't look or sound like him but more than anything she just wanted to get away, get out of this place with it's sounds and smells and the horrific memories of being so helpless and watching her best friend die in front of her eyes.

"Girls like what? Girls like me?" she glared at Charles, her hands leaving her pockets to rest on her hips, her chin jutting out in defiance and anger.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Charles' brow knotted "You're nothing like that"

"Yes I am. I was that girl. My mates were that girl. There's nothing wrong with that girl. Cos she is just a girl. She ain't a tart, or a gold digger or nothing else. She's just a girl. She offered something and your son took it. But I don't see you blaming Sam in this. Cos he ain't been led on, he did this cos he wanted to."

"You're twisting my words Molly. That's not what I'm saying; not at all" he shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah you are. You're saying that someone like me ain't good enough for someone like you"

"What the fuck….how did you get from there to here?"

"It ain't hard. I'm just listening to what you're saying."

"You aren't making any sense, you sound like some hysterical woman. Honestly I've had it in the neck from Rebecca all evening and now you're acting just like her." Charles' voice was rising in volume, the quiet control he had displayed until now quickly dissolving. "I suggest you go back inside while I try and talk to Sam"

"Yeah, do what you always do, pack me off like a good little soldier" Molly rummaged in her coat pocket "Well I ain't playing along no more. I got to get out of here" she drew the car keys out of her pocket and held them up. Charles took them from her outstretched hand.

"I'm not asking you to do anything difficult. Just wait."

"I can't" she pulled the collar of her coat tighter around her ears "I can't stay in this place"

"You can't expect me to leave Sam" Charles didn't even try to hide the exasperation in his voice.

Behind her an ambulance door slammed and Molly jumped, glancing back at the noise that had startled her. She lifted her hands to push her hair from her face and noticed they were shaking.

"I can't be here no longer. I just can't" she muttered the words, almost talking to herself. She started to bite a fingernail, and then catching herself she moved her hand from her mouth. She glanced at Charles who was staring at her, leaning in to catch her words. His hand moved minutely from his side but remained there, poised in the air between them.

"This isn't about Sam is it?" his voice dropped, barely louder than a whisper. His question was met with silence. "Talk to me Molly"

"I gotta get out of here" Molly's gaze flitted behind him, never meeting his eyes. She turned again, looking all around her as if she was prey trying to spot a clear exit from her hunter. In the ambulance bay an engine started and a siren wailed, the noise cut off abruptly as the lights flashed their blue glow against the brick wall. She pressed her hand against her throat, patting the fabric of her coat lightly as she felt for the hard object tied around her neck. Charles caught the movement of her hand, his eyes widening in realisation.

"I see" his voice turned cold "Yes. Maybe you should leave. I certainly can't give you any help there"

Molly had barely registered his words before he moved, pushing his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans, his shoulders set in a tense line high against his ears; he turned to walk away, barely brushing her shoulder as he passed her.

"Where are you going?" she gasped

"To my son. You've made it perfectly clear that I'm not needed." he half turned, glancing back at her, standing small and fragile against the bare brick wall. "I never am when it comes to him"

His words stung more than his actions, she could almost see him shutting down in front of her eyes, his voice and posture cold "Why can't you get past this?" she whispered "Why can't you see past this?"

"Past this?" he took a step towards her, then another, and another until he was standing so close to her she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek, see his adam's apple as it bobbed in his throat. He stood so close she could feel the heat from his body radiating against her skin, feel the light press of his arm against the front of her coat as he slowly brought his hand up to her face. His finger was crooked and it paused in front of her lips; she glanced up, his eyes were focused on her neck as he brought his hand down brushing the indentation at the base of her throat before continuing its journey under the neckline of her top. She could feel the coldness of his fingertips as they travelled over her skin, making her breath hitch and goosebumps rise in their path. His finger found it's target, hooking around the leather thong he flicked the ring out from under her coat. It glinted in the fluorescent light as he held it out in front of her. "Get past this" his voice was a low hiss "Why should I get past this when you so obviously haven't".

 **To those of you impatient to get a proposal; I'm very sorry to have let you down once again.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry to keep you hanging out on a limb after the last chapter...this one is a long one so I've split it into 2, the next to follow in a few days when I've finished the editing.**

 **30 December**

"Shh, you daft mutt" Zoe whispered as Jess' claws skittered on the floor. The dog bounced up and down, her tail thumping against the kitchen cabinets as she whimpered with excitement. Zoe opened the back door and Jess shot outside, unable to contain her excitement or her bladder much longer. Letting the door rest closed Zoe filled the kettle, clearing away last night's plates and glasses and stacking them in the dishwasher. She made her coffee and stood in the doorway sipping the hot liquid as she watched the dog make her rounds of the small garden, sniffing the frosty ground and searching under bushes for her ball. Suddenly she sprang back with a small yelp, running to Zoe for comfort.

She bent down stroking her, "I told you not to go near the holly you silly thing" she examined the dog's muzzle "look you've gone and scratched your nose." Jess looked mournfully at her, nudging Zoe's hand when she stopped stroking. Knowing when to give in Zoe sat down on the doorstep, letting the dog lean into her as she finished her coffee. "Going home today Jess. I think there's two little girls who have missed you and want you back. And that gallumphing twit Tobes, I'm sure he's missed you as well. If not bite him on his bum. You can't miss it, that big round thing he sits on all day" Jess made a grumbling noise, and nuzzled the side of Zoe's face. "Right oh missy" Zoe stood, collecting her cup "let's get you out for a quick once around the block"

Jess followed her back into the house, and as Zoe rinsed and stacked her coffee cup the dog trotted the length of the kitchen and hallway, whimpering excitedly at the prospect of her walk. Zoe searched through the kitchen drawer for a hair band and the dog's whining grew louder and her footsteps on the floor changed from a steady back and forth pattern to something more frantic. Zoe tried to calm the dog as she hastily tied her hair up off her collar "quiet" she hissed in a loud whisper as she checked that the worst of the loose strands of hair were tucked away "you'll wake the street at this rate"

"Nah, just me" came the reply.

Zoe turned round, her hands still holding her hair up,"Shit" she mumbled through a mouthful of hair grips "I was trying not to wake you" she slotted the last into place as she watched him cross the kitchen to the kettle, already relaxed and fully at home in her house. He wore an old pair of tracksuit bottoms, frayed and worn at the seams; they sat low on his hips a flash of pale skin and dark hair visible under his t shirt as he scrubbed his hand over his face, four day old beard rasping under his fingers. "Where you going so early?" he yawned, getting a cup down from the cupboard and pouring coffee in directly from the jar.

"I told you, I want to get in first thing, then hopefully I can skip out early. This one" she stroked Jess' silky ear "is going home today"

"And do you need me out of the way?" He wandered between the fridge and his cup, unscrewing the lid from the milk.

"No" she moved towards him, her hand reaching under the hem of his t shirt, fingers moving up his back, the tempting skin smooth and still bed-warm. "I understand if you want to be elsewhere though. You didn't come here to meet the family."

"I ain't got any reason to hide" he sniffed dismissively and the corner of Zoe's mouth lifted as she resisted the urge to laugh at how he tried to brazen out his fit of pique. "They like me or lump me" Zoe stood on tiptoe, brushing her lips against his cheek, the sharp stubble prickling her chin "Don't get your knickers in a knot; I'm only teasing."

His arm stole around her waist, pulling her against him as he bent his head to her neck "You didn't answer my question, where are you headed to? They can't want you in this early" His other arm wrapped around her, his fingers trailing over the curve of her bottom as he pushed himself away from the counter.

"Jess needs a walk" Zoe turned her head as his lips brushed over her neck.

"I could do that later, and you could come back to bed" his hands skimmed over her bum and up to her waist "you know you want to."

Zoe really did want to. The idea of an extra hour in bed sounded much better than a frosty walk in the park with Jess. "I normally meet Molly at the gym first thing" she half heartedly pushed away but his grip tightened. He raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading over his face "Well, I could give you both a work out if you fancy"

She smirked, but the corners of her mouth had a mind of their own; the smirk became a smile, and then a giggle. She clamped her lips together trying to hold back the laughter that bubbled inside her. The more she tried to hold it back, the more the pressure rose. Eventually she couldn't hold it back any longer and she threw her head back, laughing unguardedly at him. "It's not that fucking funny" he grumbled, untangling himself from her and reaching for his coffee mug "Bloody women" but a smile crept over his lips as he lowered the mug, the corners of his blue eyes creasing lightly as his hands slid back to her bottom. "Come on" he muttered close against her ear "one hour"

* * *

Barracks were unusually quiet, nothing more than a skeleton staff remained between Christmas and New Year this year, a rarity and one that most had taken full advantage of. The few that remained were mostly on light duties, mainly because there wasn't much else to do. Molly had read her hand over notes from Jonesey detailing the tasks that he had managed to drum up for the few that had remained on base over the Christmas break. He'd added a few suggestions for the next few days, stopping short at long stands and left handed screwdrivers, but not much more productive; the useful tasks of unloading and sorting the last of the kit from the latest exercise had been done last week, all that remained were tedious stock checks and drug rotations, or if she were really desperate, cleaning and sorting old kit. She sighed, dropping down on the worn office chair which squeaked in protest. She had come to work to distract her from the silence and inertia of home, but respite looked unlikely.

Rubbing her hands over her face she tried to scrub the tiredness away; moving her right hand to her neck, she squeezed the taut muscles running down to her shoulder. Weariness sat heavily on her like a brick. She felt like she hadn't slept in days, but she must have done at some point, she had woken in the early hours twisted and cold on the sofa to a crick in her neck and the muscles pinched every time she moved.

The office was deathly quiet, normally it was a hive of activity as staff wandered in and out, banter flying back and forth, but today it was only Molly. The door to Zoe's office was shut and locked although Molly could see her jacket hanging on the peg, so she must be in. Gathering herself together with a resigned sigh she collected the keys to the stores, pushing her reluctant body upright. She scribbled a note on the whiteboard and set off to the junior common room to rustle up the few staff she had; bracing herself for their sullen faces as she handed out their orders for the day. _As if I haven't seen enough miserable faces this week_ she thought to herself. Between Sam, Tommy and Bella she'd had her fill of moody teenagers; most of those in her charge were little older than her sister. They at least had to listen and obey her orders, unlike her family who clammed shut and stormed off to their rooms in a sulk as soon as she opened her mouth.

* * *

Zoe flicked on the kettle in the office. She didn't have to sniff the milk to know it was off, the carton was ballooned and swollen, and clots of rancid cream clung to the sides. She inspected each mug, selecting the least revolting one and swilled it out with lukewarm water which she poured onto a wilted pot plant. "This place is disgusting" she muttered tipping coffee granules into the mug where they absorbed the dribble of water left behind and congealed into a brown sludge. Glancing at the whiteboard she saw Molly was working in the stores this morning. She felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn't been in touch over Christmas, and that she hadn't texted this morning to excuse herself from their usual gym session. Given the lack of contact from Molly she expected that her Christmas had been spent in a haze of romance or lust, possibly both.

Coffee made she took it into her office, propping the door open with a bin. She glanced at her phone; there were no messages, she supposed that was a good thing, she felt a little flurry of hope that Rob might have sent a quick text, but then realised that wasn't likely, he wasn't a prolific messenger and she had only just left him a couple of hours ago. If he had any sense he would still be in bed.

He had very quickly made himself at home, and four days into his visit she hadn't get got tired of him. Not yet. He seemed very good at...she grinned, he was very good at keeping her distracted. The easiness she had felt with him in Kenya had continued, he was generally light hearted, and they shared a sense of humour. Still, she reminded herself, it's only been a few days and it's not exactly a taxing situation lounging around the house carrying on what they had started.

She flicked through her notes for her upcoming meeting, checking that the assessment scores were correct, looking over the latest attendance and comments about the trainees. Nothing stood out, she hoped her meeting would be straightforward and over quickly.

A door opened in the outer office, she glanced up as the door swung shut catching a glimpse of MTP and dark hair swept up into a plait. Molly. She felt a little kick of expectation, curious to know what had transpired over the Christmas break.

"Dawes!" She yelled into the outer office "Dawes! Is that you?"

Molly stopped in her tracks, turning away from her desk and stood in the doorway of Zoe's office.

"Ma'am"

Zoe glanced up. Molly didn't look like her normal self. Despite standing to attention her shoulders were slumped, rolling forward and her head hung slightly, as if she were stooping. She looked tired, dark circles ringed her eyes, her face was pale and washed out and her mouth was set in a thin line.

Zoe was startled by her appearance "Jesus Molls, who shit on your chips?"

"It's nothing" Molly's responded tersely, her tone of voice defensive, clearly trying to shut down any questions before they started.

Zoe got up and walked to the door, "Take a seat Molly" she ushered her into the office, closing the door firmly behind them. Molly sighed before reluctantly lowering herself onto a chair by the desk. After the last few days of her own company she had thought she might welcome the chance to get her feelings off her chest, but she really didn't feel like opening up right now. Her feelings were still in a jumble to make any sense of; she didn't know what she felt except empty and alone.

Zoe paused, watching her friend take a seat. Her movements seemed lethargic, her posture stiff and awkward. She didn't look happy or glowing, neither did she seem keen to talk. Instead of sitting next to her she walked back to her desk, taking the place of Captain Dodson preparing to speak to one of her staff. She needed more time and information to judge her next steps. She turned her screen around so Molly could see, and opened her notebook "I thought we could go over the training record if you don't mind, I've got a meeting with the Major in an hour and it would be good to go in prepared, is that ok?" Molly visibility relaxed and Zoe began her mission of slowly unraveling what was amiss.

* * *

"Good. Well that seems in order" Zoe turned the screen back to face her. "And another thing, Harris' wife had the baby just before Christmas. Can you organise a whip round in the new year?"

Molly nodded glumly. Getting money out of people for Harris was going to be a challenge and she didn't think she was the best placed to provide encouragement. "Have you heard how he's doing?" she asked, more for politeness than any feelings of concern. Last she had seen of Second Lieutenant Harris was a loading him into a military transport with his leg strapped up after a run in with a large rock on exercise in Kenya, and as far as her opinion went it couldn't have happened to a more deserving man.

"Seems to be on the mend. Whether he comes back or not is still up in the air, but we can't hold that against his wife.A new baby and a husband out of sorts isn't going to be fun for her. It won't be easy but try and get a decent amount for him and I'll bung in a wodge when you're done to get it up to something reasonable." Zoe was aware that there was no love lost between them, and she felt sorry for his wife more than anything else. "And while we're on the subject how was Aston before the break? Things improved on that front?"

Molly nodded "she seemed a bit more chipper; off home for the duration I think"

"Well let's hope that a bit of a break helps her put this behind her, eh? Even if Harris does come back here she should be out of the way and into a regular posting by the time he returns"

Molly nodded, chewing on her lip, her mind obviously elsewhere. Despite her tiredness she seemed full of nervous tension, fiddling with the seam on her trouser leg, her eyes flitting across the wall of the office, glancing briefly outside before returning to the desk in front of her.

"Good. Now that's out of the way, how was your Christmas?" Zoe could almost see Molly's shoulders tense at the question.

"OK, I suppose" she gave a half shrug

"Quiet?" It was like pulling teeth thought Zoe, something was up and from the body language Molly was displaying it didn't look like it was something positive. She took a deep breath, _in for a penny…_ she thought.

"Well then Molly, show me the ring" she kept her tone light "Or is it too flash to wear?"

Molly shifted in her seat. "There ain't no ring" she glanced down at her fingers before folding her arms, tucking her hands under her armpits self consciously "there ain't gonna be no wedding"

* * *

Silence filled the room. Molly refused to lift her eyes from the floor and seemed to be trying and failing to keep her shit together. Ever since she had caught sight of her across the canteen at lunch Zoe could tell that something significant was the matter with her friend. She had hoped that the something hadn't been to do with Charles, but it seemed like her fears were well founded.

She quietly walked around the desk, pulling a chair next to Molly's she sat down. Gently she reached over and putting her arm around Molly she pulled her close. Beneath her hand she could feel Molly shuddering, as silent tears fell from her cheeks, landing on her trouser leg, the wet drops spreading into the fabric.

"Oh Molls" she whispered as Molly silently cried.

They sat like that for a few minutes, neither saying anything as the tears flowed, and slowly, eventually stopped. Molly lifted her head from Zoe's shoulder, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. Her eyes were puffy, her nose red, but most of all she looked defeated. Zoe passed her a box of tissues and waited while Molly wiped away the last of the tears and blew her nose.

"Saved a bleedin fortune in mascara this week" she mumbled into her tissue "no point in putting it on when it's only gonna slide down your face twenty minutes later, is there?" She scrunched the tissue in her hand before reaching for another one, gulping against the lump in her throat.

Zoe gave her what she hoped was a comforting smile. She didn't want to leap to any conclusions, she wracked her brains for something neutral to say that would start to tease the issue out of Molly. In the end she couldn't think of any words, instead she passed her another tissue "Tell me what's happened." A tear silently rolled down Molly's cheek, she wiped it away with her sleeve.

"That bloody Smurf. If he weren't dead already I'd dig him up and strangle him meself"

"Smurf?"

Molly took a deep shaky breath in but managed to stay dry eyed. "Oh Zo….why does it always go to shit?"

"What's happened?"

"Where do you want me to start? I think my sister's on the rob, me brother's doing drugs, Sam hates me, I had a massive bust up with Charles and I ain't heard from him in days" Molly held her head in her hands. "One bleedin afternoon and it's like someone put a bomb under my life" The tears started again "and I can't stop bloody crying. Do you know how effing sick I am of crying?" she tried to chuckle but it got caught in her throat and came out as a strangled hiccup.

Zoe, ever practical cut to the chase. "When did you last hear from Charles?"

"Couple of nights ago. He sent me a text telling me he's at his parent's place"

"OK, so, was that when he said the wedding was off?"

"No. He ain't said it as such, but then he ain't exactly talking to me right now"

"So what makes you think it's off?"

"We had a row"

"Everyone argues"

"Yeah, over emptying the dishwasher or whose turn it is to clean the bog. I mean sometimes he gets in my face about my career and that, you know going for promotion, but….this weren't like that. This was..."

"About Smurf?"

Molly nodded. Zoe could see the tears welling in her eyes.

"So what did he say?"

"It weren't so much what he said. He was so angry with me; but I couldn't stay at the hospital, all I could think of was when Smurf died. Like it was happening all over again" the tears started flowing down Molly's cheeks again. She swiped viciously at her cheeks, "I wish I could just stop fucking crying" the frustration was evident in her voice.

"Hospital? Was it your Nan?"

"No. Sam. He had a run in with a peanut. Well, it was a girl really, but he didn't have his epipen, and he had to go to hospital; he's fine now" Molly could see Zoe's brow crumpling as she tried to make sense of her garbled explanation "We was worried, obviously, but he was OK after and that, but, I dunno, just being there, I just flipped out. The noises, the smells, all of it….I just couldn't cope. I wanted to go, Charles had to stay, we ended up having a big fight and I..." Molly trailed off

"And the fight was about Smurf?"

"I dunno. Yeah. Sort of, I think" Molly swiped at her eyes again "Charles was saying all this stuff about the girl and I snapped. It was just like all those things people say about me..and you know before.." she tried not to think of Harris and the things he had said only a few weeks ago "and it sort of broke something in me. I couldn't listen to him writing someone off like that, because if he can say that then….I dunno...he could think that about me and all"

Zoe cut her off "but he loves you"

"You sure about that? Cause I ain't. He was so angry. He could see I was struggling but as soon as he knew it was about Smurf he didn't want to know. He said I weren't over it and he walked off and left me. He didn't even look back."

Zoe sighed. She didn't know much about the Smurf situation, she had been told a bit by Molly, and she knew that Molly had been through some counselling shortly after she had taken up her current position, but she knew next to nothing about Charles' dealings with him aside that he had been his CO in Afghanistan. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm sure he was worried about Sam. Think about it, no one's at their best at a time like that, least of all a parent." Molly shuffled in her seat "I'm not defending what he did Molls, but it doesn't sound like Charles at all"

"I know all that. I thought that and all, but it's been days Zoe, he's sent me one text in four days. He ain't rung me at all. He could be dead in a ditch for all I know"

"I think you'd know if that had happened" Zoe smiled weakly "have you tried to call him?"

Molly shook her head "I was too upset to start; plus it was full on back at home. Tommy didn't take too well to me sticking my oar in. Bella did her usual disappearing act. Mum was fussing over Nan, Dad rolled in drunk and got everyone's back up. I can't really blame Charles for wanting nothing to do with me, can I? I mean what a bunch of fuck ups"

"Uh-uh. Too much Molls." Zoe shook her head "Charles loves you. Don't worry about families, because none of them are perfect, and let's face it, if they were going to scare him off they would've done it years ago. I think you need to phone him. Ask him when he's coming back. You've been sitting at home stewing over this and I don't think you can see the wood for the trees."

There was a long pause, Molly drew a deep, ragged breath, trying to keep a hold of the emotions that lurched inside her. Eventually she spoke, her voice small and wavering, barely audible as she mumbled into her lap. "You ever been so scared of asking a question in case you don't like the answer? I mean proper life changing questions?" Molly looked up from the crumpled pile of tissues in her hands that she was quietly shredding as she spoke. "I'm scared Zoe. Proper shitting terrified. I thought I had been scared before; I thought I was scared when I told him I loved him the first time. And I was. We was on the middle of a plain in Afghan. There was this...thing in the road. We didn't know what it was, could have been a bomb, or an ambush. Anything really. He was walking towards it, just him, he was in some stew about" she snorted and shook her head at the memory, glancing at Zoe, tears gathering in her eyes again "about Smurf, ironic ain't it? And I thought 'this is it; I ain't got nothing to lose, cause in 30 seconds we was all going to be blown to bits' so I walked out to him. No waiting for orders. I just walked out and told him; I was that convinced that this was the end. And it weren't. And I never thought I shouldn't have told him, that never crossed my mind. I needed him to know. But this…this...seriously Zo, I don't know what I'll do if he says it's over."

Zoe reached over, removing the worst of the shredded tissue from Molly's hands. It was soggy with tears, the fibres softened and fluffy from being folded and unfolded. "Molly. You're focusing on the worst outcome. There's nothing that I know about you and Charles that would make me think he would ever say that it's over." she took a deep breath "But it does sound like you have some stuff to sort out, both of you, as well as you on your own. You're caught in the worst part right now, some kind of limbo where you don't know what's going on and you can't move on until you do."

"You've got to stop waiting for him; bite the bullet Molls, because this isn't doing you any good. If you aren't going to call Charles then you need to think about getting yourself in a better place for when he does come back" Molly snorted in response to this "He will come back Molly, you know he will. But It will be harder for you to put this right if you aren't sorting yourself out." She crossed back to her desk, and pulled out a notepad. "For now you need to talk to someone about the flashback you had in the hospital, and the anxiety that you're feeling now. I can put in a request for an appointment for you, but it won't help today. You can call these people" she wrote a number on the pad "or the Padre is in today if you want to speak to someone face to face" she ripped the sheet from the pad, passing it to Molly who stared blankly at the paper.

Molly nodded. "Yep". She looked down at the paper in her hand; the faint lines, the jagged edge where it had been ripped from the pad. She felt somehow deflated. The enormity of everything bearing down on her seemed so immovable, she had felt paralysed by it all. She had expected that sharing it with someone would have lightened the burden, that somehow someone else would shine a light on the way out of the pit she had been in for days. How could a number on a flimsy piece of paper help? The tears stung the back of her eyes, prickling at the sensitive lids. She took a deep breath, trying to will the tears away.

"I know I've just given you the response that a Captain would give their staff," Zoe had the decency to sound apologetic "but as your friend you know you can ring me whenever you want. Just don't keep it to yourself because it won't help. Promise you'll call if you need me?" she tried to catch Molly's eye, but they were still downcast, staring at her hands.

"Would it help if I sent you home early, or would you just go home and fret some more?"

"I dunno. Don't fancy going to the gym or something later do you?" In times of confusion Molly fell back on the oblivion of physical exercise; there was a chance that a long session on a treadmill would offer some respite, hopefully enough let her fall into a long dreamless sleep.

"Shit sorry Molls, I can't. Toby's due over to pick up the dog this afternoon. I was after skipping out early myself." Zoe felt frustrated at her response again. "Why don't you come over for dinner? Get you out of the house?"

Molly wiped the last of her tears away. Her eyes felt swollen and tired, raw from the salty tears that kept on threatening to fall, her lungs hurt and her ribs ached. It wasn't just the physical effects of the last few days, she suddenly felt weary. Three nights of fitful sleep and hours and hours of worry were beginning to take their toll. She wasn't sure that she was up to going over it all over again, no matter how sympathetic the audience was, nor did she think she could ignore it for long enough to concentrate on any sort of conversation. "Nah," she attempted a wan smile "thanks though. Maybe I will go home, or go for a long run or something. Get moving, you know?" She willed the tears to stay away.

Zoe sighed, frustrated that circumstances were conspiring to make her unavailable at a time when a friend needed her. She sensed Molly was once again putting a brave face on things. "Course I do. Just promise to call if you need me, alright?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, I'm glad you seemed to get something out of it (mostly frustration with CJ being a sulky arse) ;). I said the next one wouldn't be far off, but I warn you it is long. As for the reunion and a good old heart-to-heart, I'm not making any promises.**

Zoe was running late. Her conversation will Molly had set her back, and then her meeting with the Major overran. She tried not to think about what had been said in that meeting, although right now she could quite merrily march over to Harris' house and break the other leg for him. But that was a worry for another day; if nothing else she knew that taking the worst parts of work home with her did nothing to solve anything. Besides, the prospect of Rob opening the door to Toby and explaining who the hell he was and what he was doing in her house was enough of a concern for the time being.

She pulled up outside the house; Toby's sensible family saloon car was parked outside and stood empty. "Shit" she muttered to herself "shit shittery shit shit" the fear of Toby behaving like his usual obnoxious self with Rob settling like a cold stone in her gut. Turning off the ignition she took a deep breath and prepared herself for what lay in store.

Jess gave her an exuberant welcome as soon as she walked through the door, her strong solid body pressing into her legs and her tail thumped against the hallway wall as Zoe unbuttoned her coat. Upstairs she could hear the muffled sound of high-pitched voices; Toby must have brought the girls with him. Zoe had missed them over Christmas and hoped that this was a sign that he was being less of a dick than usual. Easing off her boots she called up the stairs, to be answered by a thump and a giggle then the not so light footsteps of her nieces as they thundered down the stairs. "Aunty Ro!" Lily came first, looking thrilled to see her. More cautiously, but no less excited came Harriet, concentrating very hard on walking carefully down each step without stepping on her dress. Zoe knelt halfway up the stairs, cuddling each to her and answering the volley of questions they fired at her as best she could. Balancing Harriet on her hip and being led by the hand by Lily she climbed the rest of the stairs with Jess using her bulk and weight to try and push past to lead the way.

The living room carpet was strewn with paper and colouring pens, dolls, and discarded dress up clothes. Fingers sat on the floor, leaning up against the sofa, a blonde barbie in his lap. He was looking up at a slim beautiful woman, who rose and walked towards Zoe as she entered the room.

"Cecille" Zoe embraced her sister in law warmly, kissing her on both cheeks. She was looking relaxed, her skin tanned to a deep caramel from the mountain sun. "I'm so sorry I'm late"

"Don't be so English" Cecille teased "besides, Robert has been a charming host" she rolled her tongue around the 'R' in Robert, her French pronunciation providing the verbal equivalent of a raised eyebrow.

"See. I'm charming." Fingers bent his head and kissed her cheek, grinning mischievously "I'll get the kettle on" He passed her the doll before heading downstairs to the kitchen with Harriet following hard on his heels.

"He's made a little friend" remarked Cecille before turning to face Zoe "she hasn't left him alone all afternoon. You may have a battle on your hands for his attention."

"I'm sure I'll cope" Zoe replied dryly.

"He seems very nice" Cecille raised an eyebrow "is it serious?"

Zoe narrowed her eyes "who are you spying for; mum or Toby?"

"So suspicious" Cecille fiddled with her wedding ring "I want you to be happy Zoe, and he looks like he could fit the bill"

"I don't need someone else to be happy"

"Oof," Cecille waved her hand dismissively "of course not, but you keep such a tight grip on life. So serious. You should try opening yourself up to the possibility that someone could improve it"

"You've seen my life. No one is queuing round the block to come third on my list of priorities."

"Ahh, but he is from the army too, am I right?" Cecille's brown eyes twinkled "he will at least understand"

"Yes; he's army. And that usually means we see each other less."

"If it is worth it you find a way" Cecille shrugged in an impossibility Gallic way and Zoe kept her mouth shut. Any denial would be met with cajoling, any agreement would be seized upon. Cecille was one of those people convinced in the transformative power of romance.

"Anyway" Cecille carried on "he is a charming and romantic man; and these do not come along often.

"Are you sure we're talking about the same person?" Zoe laughed "because those are not the two qualities I would have used to describe him"

"That is because you think romance is a bunch of flowers, but it's not. It's small acts of kindness, it's a thoughtful gesture, it's paying attention to the little things" she leant forward, whispering conspiratorially so that Lily wouldn't overhear "and a nice bottom and a handsome face helps also, yes?"

They both laughed as Harriet came up the stairs, her face the epitome of concentration, a pink tongue caught between her teeth as she slowly carried a plate of biscuits into the room, Fingers following behind with two mugs of tea. He handed one to each of them before taking up his previous spot on the floor, this time hooking his arm over Zoe's knee in a pose of easy familiarity and intimacy. Cecille looked pointedly at Zoe before delicately sipping her tea.

Harriet was not prepared to take second place in Fingers' attention; she plonked herself on his lap and waved her doll his face. "Make her hair pretty" she demanded. Cecille cleared her throat, "Make her hair pretty, what?"

"Please?"

"Not to me.."

"Please, Rob" she asked, her green eyes turned pleadingly at him. Zoe grinned into her cup of tea; the kid was practically batting her eyelashes at him. She had seen Harriet pull the same thing on Toby many times. The girl played her daddy like a fiddle.

"Ok then" Fingers relented "let's see. She could wear her hair up like your aunty" he twisted the hair against its head.

"No pretty" Harriet protested

"I think Zoe's hair is pretty" he winked at her

"Aunty Ro isn't a princess, she's a soldier and soldiers can't be princesses" Harriet insisted.

"What about Mulan?" Lily barely looked up from her colouring book

"Mulan isn't a princess, dummy" Harriet replied

"I'm not a dummy, you're a dummy"

"Am not"

"Yes you are. A dummy and a baby. Only babies want to be princesses"

"Girls!" Cecille shot a warning glance at the pair of them.

"Pretty like this" Harriet demonstrated on the doll, sweeping her hair to one side. Fingers took the proffered hair slide and tried to fix it to his own hair, the short strands barely grasping the metal. "You mean like this?" He shook his head and the hair grip fell out making Harriet giggle. He did it again and she laughed harder, joining in trying to pin his short hair and rummaging through her bag to find more. Within minutes his head was covered with flowery glittery hair grips that he would shake off and the game would start again. The girls both joined in, giggling and jostling to fix the grips to his hair before he sent them tumbling to the floor once more. Cecille watched Zoe joining in, passing grips to her nieces and laughing at their efforts. She smiled to herself, but kept quiet.

* * *

"Thank you" Zoe said softly, her voice cutting through the silence of the room.

"What for?" Fingers lay behind her, his body stretched the length of the sofa, his hand trailing softly up and down her arm.

"Today. The girls. Dinner. You didn't have to do any of that. You could have made yourself scarce and I wouldn't have minded"

"Well now you tell me" he joked before turning serious again "It's nothing, or the least I could do. One or the other" he yawned and she felt him stretch, the long planes of him pushing against her before he relaxed again, pulling her closer once again.

The room was dimly lit, a small lamp in one corner and a few candles on the mantelpiece the only sources of illumination. The house was quiet now that Cecille and the girls had gone, taking Jess home with them. Zoe could sense the beginnings of the change, Christmas break was coming to an end, just two nights until Fingers was due back to base. Her staff would be returning the same evening ready for the trainees to be back the following day. She could almost sense the oncoming year. She shifted closer still, moving her leg so it was sandwiched between Fingers' and twisting her head to steal a kiss. Her lips lingered on his before gently pulling back and settling down again.

Her mind was still turning over the afternoon. She had tried to ring Molly earlier but her call had gone to voicemail. She left a quick message, repeating that she could call any time or come over if she changed her mind, but had heard nothing in return. At the back of her mind she had wondered if she needed to be more insistent with Molly and was concerned that she had played the situation in her office all wrong. She didn't think Charles could stay away much longer, not without at least a call to say what he was doing. Whether that would be good or bad she couldn't tell. Molly had seemed upset at his lack of contact rather than anything else whereas Zoe was worried about what had happened to Molly at the hospital. The return of such strong feelings over Smurf had obviously shaken her more than she was prepared to admit or face right now.

Fingers' hand had stopped its lazy movements and she could hear his breathing deepen and slow as he held her. She shifted slightly, turning a little towards him. "Rob?" she asked gently "You knew Smurf, didn't you?"

He shifted, his frame stiffened a little before he took a deep breath in "Yeah"

"What was he like?"

"Tosser" the words almost seemed automatic, like his standard response to any question about the man. Then his tone softened "But he was our tosser….you know" he propped himself up on an elbow.

Zoe smiled, turning her body to face his. "How long did you know him?"

"Just over a year, give or take. We went into phase 2 together. He had passed his basic on the second round; his brother died and he had to pull out."

"Is it true that his brother served under Charles as well, I thought Molly had said?"

"Yeah. Smurf was full of how great Geraint thought Captain James was. Smurf thought the same."

"Kiss arse was he?"

Fingers shook his head "not at all. He was alright. Got best recruit. He was a good soldier." He propped himself up higher. "Well mostly, but you know how some are good at training and then don't really live up to it in the field? I always think of him like that. I mean we all went through that a bit, exercises and drills can only prepare you so much. Getting out there knocks a few edges off you, or it should. I mean we was all keen to get out there, but we was a cocky bunch of bastards, couldn't wait to stick it to the Taliban. Our first patrol out we were gagging for a bit of action; soon realised that it weren't all that. I mean we all had our moments, but I suppose we didn't notice to begin, just thought his attitude wasn't that different to ours, just a bit more like."

"What do you mean?"

"Well he talked about his brother a lot. How he had given his life in Afghan. After a while you stopped listening. Not because it wasn't bad what happened, just that there weren't much you could say about it. I suppose it ramped up a bit when we got out there, but we just thought it was Smurf being Smurf. He could be a bit of a dick really, but I dunno, the rest of us calmed the fuck down pretty quick but Smurf really never did. He would go off on one about his brother. He never took to the ANA. Never really trusted them. His attitude was pretty intense, but like I said we were young, and we thought it was just part of his cockiness; what made him him. Molly weren't used to him so when he talked like that and it rang a bell with her and she took it to the boss. That didn't go down well with Smurf, he gave her a bit of hard time over it." he paused "Actually we all did. I'm not proud of it now. We had been training for months and we were pretty tight; Molly came on board at the last minute and it must have been hard for her to find her place with us, and Smurf being the only one she knew made it worse when he turned on her. I mean now, if one of my lot behaved like that I'd be dealing with it; I wouldn't be recommending him for theatre."

"Are you saying he shouldn't have been out there?"

Fingers inhaled deeply, considering what he was about to say. When he spoke it was with a measured pace, choosing his words carefully, "I'm saying hindsight is a fantastic thing. None of us could have predicted what happened. He could be volatile at times, but fucks sake we were kids, 19, 20? Who really has a handle on what's going on in their head at that age, especially out there? It's like a pressure cooker, things flare up and die down quickly. I suppose the boss thought it was manageable."

"And was it?"

"I thought it was. Smurf got a fright early on, got shot and that seemed to calm him a bit. Molly got him out of a tight spot, damn near got herself killed in the process. She proved herself to the lads, Smurf was off in Bastion recuperating and even when he came back things were calmer. Some of the best times I ever had were in that FOB, lots of laughs with good blokes. It weren't till the end that things got weird with Smurf again. We were back in Bastion and he started to get twitchy. He was spooked by something his mum had said. About how he had a feeling or something that he was in danger. Ridiculous stuff, but Smurf was a suspicious bastard; he'd got this medallion or something, he and his brother had one each - they were twins, did you know that? - anyways he always wore it, said his brother had done the same, but when his body came back to England it wasn't in his personal effects. No one could find it. Smurf was convinced that he got shot because he wasn't wearing it, so he wore his every time we went on patrol."

"Anyways, his mum was stirring the shit, and what with being back at Bastion; maybe he didn't feel like he had made up for his brother or something; you could see him getting twitchy about stuff. He had been mooning over Molly for ages at that point, going on about how they were meant to be together. Then his mum sent him her engagement ring; he seemed better after then, like he had made his mind up about something. He started talking about how he was going to leave the army when the tour was over, he was going back to Wales, get a trade, marry Molly, get a house round the corner from his mum. As far as we knew Molly hadn't agreed to any of it and we used to tell him that he should probably ask her first, seeing as she didn't seem to be giving out the same signals. He would say that she wasn't going to admit to nothing while they were in the same platoon, cause one of them would be sent home if they did, but they had 'history' and it was special what they shared. I remember one of the lads Baz saying that a bunk up behind an Indian weren't that special, and Smurf saying that it was more than Baz was ever going to get."

"None of us thought he was serious, we were used to his bullshit by then. But then he said that she had accepted this ring he got from his mum; and she bloody had. He was strutting around the camp like a dog with two cocks he was that pleased with himself. Then that final mission. It was like something had cracked.

We were all focused, but you still felt the nerves of it. Everything was heightened, and the longer we waited in that bunker the twitchier everyone got. The ANA bloke was a bloody joke, all jumpy, pupils like saucers, sometimes you didn't think those lads could point to their own arse the state they were in. Molly had some kind of cob on and I remember looking up at him half way through the morning and it was like looking at a different person. Gave me the shits, he was full on staring eyes, looking at the ground like he was psyching himself up for something. And then we were moving; the target had been sighted and we we were off. I was covering the bridge, the boss and Molly and Smurf were to make their way over; Molly was supposed to ID the target."

Zoe stayed silent, she wanted to touch him, hold his hand or stroke his face but something in the way he held himself, or the tone of his voice or the look in his eyes, focused across the room at the flickering candle flame stopped her. He was in full flow; it felt like he hadn't talked about any of this for a long time and any interruption would cause him to snap shut.

"There was a local by the side of the bridge. Could have been a dicker, we couldn't tell. Baz was leading out; spotted him right away, we stayed on the north side of the bridge and the others crossed to the truck on the other side. Something was up. Atmospherics were all wrong. They had been ever since we got to that bunker. There was a breeze and I could feel it on the back of my neck, I could smell the gun oil on my hands. We watched them approach the truck. We couldn't see much, there was minimal radio contact, we were keeping eyes on the dicker and the truck. I saw the boss talk to Smurf and he stayed midway to cover, and then him and Molly went with the translator and the ANA. From where I was all I could see in the back was that blue fabric that the women wore, the burkas with the little window for their eyes. You couldn't assume that they were all women, lots of the men used them to disguise themselves so no one was backing off. The translator went off to talk to the driver, Molly and the boss stayed at the tailgate. I was covering Molly and the boss so I didn't see, but suddenly a shot was fired, we all hit the deck thinking it was incoming. We were looking about to see where it came from and then we realised it had come from Smurf, he was pointing his gun at the dicker, he'd shot his goat and was pointing the gun at the bloke. The boss was firing questions at him, at first over the radio and then directly so we didn't hear much. At one point Molly went on the radio to talk to him; she sounded concerned. I was covering the truck and knew I had to keep eyes on there but one of the lads said that the boss and Smurf kept on talking, I heard him shout at him; something about an order, but at that point we spotted movement in the truck. One of them made a move and they were at the tailgate with a gun, Molly, the boss, Smurf they were in the way and we couldn't get a clear shot. The boss fell and Molly went to him, Smurf was just stood their like a lemon. We couldn't get a decent shot with them in the way and the guy jumped from the truck and took up cover behind one of the blast barriers."

"Smurf got out of the way eventually but no one had eyes on, we could see her treating them but she was wide open, she could have been picked off any minute. The ANA were paying no attention to orders, firing all over the shop. It was a fucking mess. We couldn't see the target, the women in the truck were screaming, no one had eyes on then there was this crack. You get so used to the sound of gunfire. I could pick out the sound of my mini anywhere in those days, but a pistol is different, it's smaller like a crack yeah, but the sound echoed around that valley for ages. We all wondered where it came from at first, then our Corp, Eggy stepped up, ordering us onto the bridge to cover Molls and get the boss out of there. Smurf had been shot, just his arm, he was alright but he weren't hardly there, just staring off into space."

He trailed off, his mind now fully in that craggy steep valley, the mountain water rushing over the rocky riverbed. He could smell the scents of the scrubby mountain vegetation, taste the dust in the back of his throat. Zoe's voice was the only thing that seemed to bring him back, her body against his, it's warmth and smell seeping into his awareness. Her hand cupped his cheek, her eyes travelling over his face etched with a quiet concern.

"You ok?" she asked. He nodded, swallowing down a lump in his throat. He didn't know where this had come from; he felt a sadness, a visceral emotion deep in his gut of fear and adrenaline and regret. Missing his former section mates, nostalgia for a time that seemed easier even though his body still recalled the danger, his blood pumped a little faster through his veins as he relived the moment. "Fine" his voice croaked out, strangled with emotion. Pausing a moment to gather himself he brushed a strand of hair from Zoe's face, letting his fingers trail against her cheek before speaking again.

"After that it was like we were on a production line. Bastion, debriefs, Cyprus, decompression and then home. It was a matter of days. There was a gloom hanging over the section. We were all worried for Smurf and the boss. None of us could explain why what happened happened but there was just this general feeling that it was the end of something. Not just the tour; though coming back home was weird enough, but also the boss and Smurf. You couldn't see how that was going to piece itself together again after what had happened."

"We went to visit Smurf in hospital after decompression. He was back to himself, just another bullet in him to get over. Molls was with him; we was all convinced that he'd got it right; she had agreed to everything he had been talking about in Bastion. They were going to Vegas together. It was such a sure thing we didn't even take bets on there being a wedding when we was out there. I found out he died the day after it happened. Brains turned up on my doorstep to tell me. He'd had a call from Kinders first thing. We got so fucking hammered that day. At the service you could tell Molly was devastated. She was with his mum, it seemed like she was part of the family. Captain James was in recovery, we were going to be assigned someone else to command us and we was already talking about moving on or looking to the next posting. Molly even went back to Afghan. And then about six months later we heard that she and the boss were together. Blew our minds truth be told. Some of the lads were upset to start with, they thought she was on the rebound after Smurf, but Brains, she and him were tight; she told him that it really was only mates between her and Smurf. She didn't say much about how she and the boss got together, but you know what I said about hindsight? You look back on it now and you could see why; they had a way together, they shared a laugh and often thought about things the same way. It was like the ranks didn't matter."

"Do you think they were an item when you were in Afghan? Molly's always said they weren't"

"Nah. Boss would never have done that. He was born quoting the Queens Regs. You couldn't find a bloke to toe the line more."

"You never even wondered?"

Fingers sat up straighter, giving the briefest shake of his head. "Nope. Why would I? Not my circus; not my monkeys. My life is enough of a ball ache without wondering about other people's. Besides it's not like my opinion is going to change anything."

Zoe sat up, turning to face him "Remember my junior in Kenya? The one who was giving Molly a hard time?"

"Yeah. Seemed like a knobber to me"

The corner of Zoe's mouth rose into a smile but she didn't give her opinion of Harris. "Remember what he was saying? That she was seeing them both?"

"Didn't happen." Fingers was adamant "I'd put money on it. If it had we would've known. Smurf was incapable of keeping his mouth shut for a start; but more than that, it's just not something any of them would do. Not Molls, not The boss. None of them."

"Hmm" Zoe thought for a moment weighing up what she could and couldn't talk about. "I….Look I don't know if I should talk about this but maybe what with you knowing him you might be able…" She shrugged unsure of what she was even asking "Molly had a bit of a rough Christmas. Something happened and it brought all the Smurf stuff up again. Sometimes talking to someone who was there helps."

"She's got the boss though" Fingers' brow creased as he reached across to take Zoe's hand.

"Yeah, I don't know if he's the best person right now" she looked down at their hands, fingers entwined.

"What makes you think I am?" He raised his eyebrows "and what makes you think she wants to talk about this? Sometimes you gotta let things lie or else you never put them behind you."

"Don't you think that you have to deal with them to put them behind you?"

"Not always. Sometimes you just got to take the world as it is and keep going. You can't change what happened."

"But if it gets in the way of your life…"

Fingers cut her off "look, the way I see it is that there's people who make heavy going of every upset. Molly ain't one of them. She will find her way."

Zoe chewed on her lip, glancing up at Fingers, the glow of the candlelight gave a warm lustre to his skin. The deep shadow across his brow made it difficult to see his eyes, but even in the dimness but she could tell he was looking at her with an intensity he hadn't shown before."I can't help thinking about what Molly said today, about Smurf, and her and Charles, and…" she trailed off not wanting to raise the issue of Harris and the developments of the afternoon. "I just didn't know what to say. Molly and Charles, they always seem so strong, I couldn't see anything getting in the way of that, least of all a dead man, but... well she wasn't the Molly I know; she seemed panicked, like she doubted everything. There was something more there than what she was letting on. I didn't know what to say. I suppose I panicked a bit, relationship advice, it's not really my strong suit you know?" she leant over, picking her wineglass from the floor and taking a long gulp. "I told her to go speak to the Padre" she snorted at herself incredulously "what kind of a friend tells someone to go talk to the bloody Padre?"

Fingers leant over, gently taking the wineglass from her hands. He took a sip of the liquid before putting it back on the floor.

"What I just told you, you can use that to be her boss or her mate. Either way you got to pick what you want to be and stick with that. You can't be both. You don't need to have the answers, you just got to be available."

Zoe held out her hand, silently asking for him to pass the glass back "What if she doesn't talk to me?"

He shrugged "Then she doesn't want to talk to you"

"God, you make it sound so easy" she took another gulp, nearly emptying the glass. "Aren't I supposed to get her pissed and bitch about crap shags or something?"

"My sister does that, she ends up miserable and copping off with blokes she regrets at best and doesn't remember at worst. It's not the answer, and it's not Molly's style." He filled the glass. "Be her mate, she needs that. The rest will go from there." he took the glass and drank from it again "and don't go copping off with any blokes you might regret."

Zoe raised her eyebrows

The corner of Fingers' mouth turned up in a shameless smile, "I'm charming, didn't you hear? You can't regret someone as charming and gorgeous as me" he took another gulp at the wine and kept hold of the glass "Do you always overthink things so much?"

She shook her head "I don't overthink things."

"Yeah you do"

"Stop drinking my wine"

"I bet you're thinking about whether you've got enough wine already, aren't you?" He held up the glass pretending to examine it before bringing it to his lips.

Zoe glowered at him, the bugger was right "That doesn't mean I overthink things; it just means I like wine"

* * *

The glow of the streetlights cast a orangey yellow hue to the frost that was settling on the neighbours' cars. The houses hugged the curve of the street, each with it's small drive and each with car that glistened under its own blanket of ice stretching off into the distance. The road was quiet, in the ten minutes since Charles had parked up not one vehicle had driven past, and no one had walked down the street. The silence was all encompassing and stifling.

He fidgeted slightly in the driver's seat, his leg ached from the drive, and the cold of the night was starting to seep in, pinching at his hands and the end of his nose. He looked up at the house, it's windows were in darkness, the curtains drawn. The light by the front door wasn't even on. From here he couldn't tell if Molly was at home or whether the house was empty.

He sniffed, the creep of the coldness making his nose run. He leant over the central console, unplugging his phone and slowly winding the lead around his fingers before tucking it neatly into the glove box. His movements were slow and deliberate, he avoided looking down at the screen as long as he possibly could, not really wanting to face what lay on the device after he had finally got some power into it on the drive home. He had counted at least seven beeps as he had driven along, the last as he joined the M3 a little over half an hour ago. He wondered when he had become such a bloody coward; too scared to look at a screen for what it might contain. "Fear transports us. What we were, we no longer are" he muttered; the long remembered words of his Uncle rang in his ears, although he doubted Uncle Nathaniel would have been sat in his car risking frostbite because he wasn't sure of the reception that would await him at home.

He glanced at the screen. The last message from Molly had been two days ago, since then nothing. His heart sank a little. An angry Molly was at least an interested Molly. He had behaved like an arse. He'd known that all along, even as they had been stood in the hospital car park a part of him had known that he was behaving like a prize prick, but it hadn't stopped him. The adrenaline of the rush to Sam, the frustration of hours of staring at his son's back as he ignored him and then the ear full of invective from Rebecca had caused something to snap. He had lashed out at Molly, taking it all out on her, his own hurt feelings blowing a lid off the simmering pot of jealousy that normally was containable.

The last message was a strangely punctuated and condensed text from his Mother, still under the impression that there was a limit to the number of characters a message could contain. From what he could understand he had left a pair of pants in their washing basket, and she would wash them and pop them in the post later in the week unless he was due in Bath to see Sam next weekend. He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Here he sat, uncertain whether if he stepped through the door their home would now have reverted to just his home, and his mother was concerned that he wouldn't be able to cope without a full compliment of underwear.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" He muttered to himself. Once he had been staking out Taliban in Helmand; now he was sat outside his own home, waiting for a sign. He took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly, his breath condensing on the car windscreen. He couldn't procrastinate any longer; It was time to face up to whatever lay in store for him behind the front door.

The house was dark and quiet. Charles dumped his bag in the hallway, hanging his coat on the hook and sat on the stairs to take off his shoes. He didn't turn on the light, he could see well enough from the glow of the street lights. Molly's boots were placed neatly by the door and her jacket hung from its peg. She was home then. Coming home to the familiar landscape of their house confirmed all the more to him that this was where he wanted to be, where he wanted them both to be. He tried to dismiss the cold hand of doubt that crept over him momentarily, for now the hope that this could still be salvaged and his determination to make up for the last few days buoyed him.

Leaving his bags he walked up the stairs, keeping his footsteps light and avoiding the squeaky tread half way up. His eyes weren't fully adjusted to the gloom, but he made his way slowly across the landing to their bedroom. The heavy curtains blocked out all the light, and he couldn't see much beyond his outstretched hand. His fingers brushed against the door frame, then one and a half steps in they made contact with the cold metal frame of the bed. "Dawsey" he whispered, not wanting to shock her awake "Molly? Are you awake?" There was no response.

Making his way along the length of the bed he found the nightstand and fumbled for the light switch. With the light on he could see that the room was empty, the bed made neatly, not even an indentation on the duvet where someone may have lain. He sat down heavily, cradling his head in his hands. She was gone. The worst of his imaginings had come to pass, and it was his fault. His jealousy and guilt had driven her away. The silence of the house engulfed him, all he could hear was the thud of his heartbeat and his shaky breath as he exhaled.

Charles stumbled to the stairs, his mind turning over the possibilities of where she could go. Her parents house was too far away to be a practical option. She might get quarters on base, but probably not at this notice. That left Zoe's place as the most likely. He scooped his car keys from the stairs as he passed, pushing his feet into his shoes in his rush. From somewhere he heard a quiet beep of a message being received. He fumbled in the pocket of his coat on the peg, grabbing at his phone. Looking down at the screen it was still dark, he tapped desperately at it to see if it was Molly trying to reach him. There were no new messages.

He looked at the screen in confusion, he was sure he had heard something. He pushed his hair off his forehead, massaging his temples, trying to stave off the headache that was building behind his eyes. He turned towards the kitchen, the mystery of the message had taken the wind out of his sails; it was late, gone 11, he couldn't just turn up on Zoe's doorstep demanding Molly's whereabouts, it wasn't a tactic that would get either of them onside. He needed to work out his strategy.

The light from outside was casting a dim glow into the house. As he walked past the living room door a dark shape caught his eye. He could just make out that there was something on the sofa. Making his way into the room, his eyes slowly adapted to the darkness. A small gap in the curtains let in a shaft of light that pooled on the floor giving him enough light to see that the shape on the sofa was Molly.

She was curled up in a foetal position, a blanket pulled tight up against her ears. Her hair was loose, still wavy and kinked from the plait she wore for work. It fell over her face and across her cheek so only a little of her nose and chin peeked out. She looked like a little dormouse bundled in a nest. Her breath came steadily, a deep sleep.

A wave of relief swept over him at seeing her there, home and safe. It felt as if someone had reached inside his chest and released the tight grip on his heart, that it might float away without the panic to anchor it. He knelt beside her, watching, wanting to reach out and touch her so much that he barely had control of his own hands. She was peaceful, perfect in the glow of the streetlight. Her dark eyelashes rested on her cheeks, her mouth slightly open. Slowly and gently he stroked a tendril of hair from her face. She didn't stir as his fingertips traced the arch of her brow, across her temple and over the soft bloom of her cheek. The thought that she was still here, that there was still a chance to save this was overwhelming. The weight of it, the responsibility for his happiness briefly daunted him.

This was what he wanted, without a shadow of a doubt. With each passing year the certainty had grown, along with the cost. Being without her was not something he could contemplate. He had been reckless four days ago; he wouldn't be that again. Sitting on the floor with the meagre glow of the light spilling through the curtains he made a promise to himself. To put aside his jealousy and his petulance and to be the man she deserved. A better man than he had been. His best self. He ignored the voice inside his head, the one that whispered of the burdens he had already shouldered, the sacrifices that had already been made, the slow drip of a life limited and made fragile by love. She was here. He would be better this time.

He watched as the tendrils of her hair moved with her breath, his body hunched on the floor, listening to the air moving in and out of her body, the small sounds of the house in the night. His eyes grew heavy with the effort, their lids closing, dragged down by the long day. Molly's stillness crept over him and he gave up fighting against it. His head nodded forward, resting against the seat of the sofa, his legs growing cold and stiff beneath him. His mind floated somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, a slippery space where time and noise and feeling mingled; where he couldn't be sure whether the hand that stroked his brow and the voice that spoke his name in a tearful whisper came from his dreams until his mind rose up through the gloom to the sight of Molly's green eyes and the feeling of her lips against his.


	9. Chapter 9

**Well finally there's an end. I had a big old falling out with this story but I'd like to thank those who kept reminding me they were reading it. It's only been finished because of your lovely words and kind thoughts.**

 **31 December**

The sun was beating down on the dirt path. Hot air rose in a shimmering haze from the parched ground. The rising heat combined with the strong wind made it feel like he was running in an oven. The path rose steeply, climbing ever upwards. Fingers pushed on, feeling the sweat running down his back, his legs aching, the muscles singing in a sweet agony as his feet continued to pound on the path. His lungs were stinging, working hard to grasp oxygen from the thin air. He had no idea why he was running; he was consumed with a drive to push onwards, never slowing, along the rising path.

The path started to open up, climbing upward towards a ridge. The land either side of him was dry, sparsely covered with vegetation brown from the relentless sun and heat. Large boulders littered the landscape scattering down the slope, the path weaving upwards through them.

The path stopped abruptly at the top of the ridge, the side of the valley falling away steeply in front of him. Gasping for breath, his lungs stinging and his muscles burning he bent over, leaning on his knees breathing deeply, waiting for the blood to stop rushing through his ears and for his heart rate to come back to normal. Each inhalation burned a little less as he slowly caught his breath, until after a few minutes he could breathe normally once more. His thighs felt heavy, cramping slightly in protest. Pushing himself upright to stretch out he stopped dead in his tracks. From the corner of his eye he noticed feet, clad in worn but looked after boots, his eyes traveled upwards slowly, fatigues, worn soft from wear, dusty and gathered at the knee pad, body armour and webbing.

Smurf stood still, gazing into the distance. He was dressed in full kit, just as he would have been for an acclimatisation run. The warm breeze that blew up from the valley floor ruffled his brown hair. His eyes were trained on the horizon, looking far into the distance. He blinked slowly but didn't turn to Fingers, just carried on staring into space. Eventually he spoke, briefly glancing over his shoulder, his voice full of playful sneering.

"You're getting out of shape. Time was that run wouldn't have phased you. Getting flabby in your old age?" He turned. He was exactly as he had been, his face untouched by age, fresh and boyish in its youth.

Somehow Fingers found his voice,

"What the fuck is this?"

Smurf ignored his question "Lovely view from up here isn't it? I like to come up and look at it. Not as good a Newport, mind" he turned back to the view. "But still, no memories here"

"Where are we?"

"Where do you think this is?"

Fingers scanned the horizon - he couldn't see anything to give him clue, the valley looked unpopulated, there were no significant landmarks, not even a road; just trees and thin scrubby dry vegetation for miles, disappearing into distant hills and a blue shimmering heat that stretched to the horizon. Fingers didn't dare voice his first answer, but somehow Smurf seemed to know what he was thinking. He laughed "Don't be a muppet, it's not that"

Fingers took a seat on the rocky ground, resting his elbows on his knees with Smurf next to him. They sat in silence for a moment, watching the shadows cast by the clouds scudding over the view beneath them. Aside from the wind there was no sound, no birdsong or the chirrup of insects. Despite the strange situation Fingers didn't feel uncomfortable, there didn't appear to be any tension, and the easy familiarity of being with someone who he knew and knew him so well was, on one level, very comforting.

Smurf broke the silence. "Bit harsh what you said about my mum, don't you think?"

"What?" Fingers replied, shaken out of his silence.

"You said she was 'stirring the shit'" Smurf glanced up at him, his eyes shining in the sunlight.

"Well she was. We didn't need that sort of thing" Fingers was on the back foot, and responded defensively.

Smurf leant over, picking a stalk of dried grass from the ground. Examining it closely for a moment he ran a fingernail down the length of the blade "She was right though. About Gerriant, and about me." there was a pause, and he turned to him, one blue eye squinting shut as he looked into the sun. He leant closer and Fingers could feel the heat coming off his shoulder, his voice dropped to a touch above a whisper, "want to know what she says about you?"

Fingers sat up abruptly, his heart pounding, panic creeping over him. He was sweating profusely, the duvet clung heavily to his legs, damp with sweat; he grew increasingly frantic trying to kick it off. Gasping ineffectually at the warm air of the bedroom he stumbled from the bed, trailing half the covers with him.

The room was roasting hot, the air thick and warm, he could almost taste it as he knelt on the floor fighting to bring his gasping, panicked breathing under control. Despite the heat a cold trickle of panic spread over his back, a thousand icy prickles spreading over back as the sweat evaporated from his skin.

He could hear footsteps running towards him. He tried to get up, kicking at the bedding caught around his legs, trying to stand, to move, to run. The room was dark, nothing in the shadows seemed familiar, the panic disoriented him. There was a hand on his back; he flinched away from it, but it held on, grabbing his shoulders and sitting him up; arms around him and a soft body pressed against him. He stiffened against the touch, but it held on and gradually he became aware of a voice, just noise to begin with, and then slowly words became recognisable "Rob? Rob? It's fine. Everything is fine. You're safe. You're safe."

As the words filtered into his consciousness he began to calm, his heart rate dropping, his breath evened out. Zoe continued to hold him and he melted into her embrace; his arms pulling her closer as he let the touchstone of her body and her words bring him back. His breath shuddered out of him, the smell of her anchoring him still further. He buried his face in her shoulder, allowing the sensation of her body against his to calm him. He could feel her naked beneath a thin t shirt, and his hands moved of their own accord, caressing the fabric against her skin, moving upwards cupping her breast. He pulled her closer still, his hands tugging at the hem, dragging the fabric, damp with his sweat, up over her body, feeling his flesh move against hers. He turned his head to her neck, his mouth skimming over the skin, her hair catching against his lips as he moved upwards. He was encompassed by the desire that coursed through him, overtaken by the need to be with her, to put himself as far away from his dream, to lose himself in the sensation that she stirred within him.

Using the weight of his body he pushed her back, rising over her until she lay in the nest of discarded bedding, all the time his mouth was on her, quivering against her flesh, his hands roaming over the softness of her skin, searching for something to replace the fear that he could still taste at the back of his throat, bitter and metallic.

Zoe pushed against him, her body stiffening under his touch; but he seemed oblivious. She pushed back harder, trying to put her arms beneath his shoulders and shove him off her. Using all her strength she heaved upward, twisting her hips from underneath him, wriggling out from where he'd had her pinned. Suddenly he stopped, rolling abruptly away, turning away from her and curling up tightly. She could see each bump of his spine, the dim morning light reflecting off his sweat-slicked back. His shoulders shuddered as he tried to bring himself under control.

Lying still, curled foetal-tight, eyes still shut, gasping in short breaths, he jumped as Zoe stroked the softness of his hair, cropped close. "Rob" she whispered gently, her hand cupping the curve of his skull. He twisted his head, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face, clearly not interested in any sort of discussion going by the way he avoided looking on her direction.

"Shit" he muttered the reality of what he had just done dawning on him. He looked up, briefly looking into the soft grey of her eyes, "shit. I'm sorry. That was…." He didn't even want to think what that had been, or could have been. He hadn't thought; he'd just been consumed by it. Instinct had overtaken him and somewhere inside it whispered darkly of what he could be capable of. Zoe reached out once more, her thumb stroking across the arch of his brow. She looked into his eyes, trying to convey what she couldn't put into words; acceptance, understanding, reassurance. She pressed her lips against his, but he didn't reciprocate. His brow was furrowed as he was far away in thoughts. Zoe sighed, stretching across, searching for her discarded t shirt. The emotional cold shoulder that Fingers was giving her was sadly a familiar sight; she had seen it enough times to know that pushing it or making it about her feelings was not going to help. Pulling the shirt over her head she stood, addressing the back of his head. "Boiler's on the blink. I'm going to see if I can sort it out. Why don't you get yourself a shower? There's plenty of hot water." Fingers remained silent, she wasn't even sure he had been listening.

* * *

Even with the doors and windows open and a cold breeze running through the house Zoe was still roasting hot. The contents of a toolbox were spewed over the kitchen table as she cursed at the screw jammed tight against the plastic cover to the thermostat. Muttering under her breath she blew her hair out of her eyes once again, it caught on the sweat of her cheek and she pushed it away with a growl of frustration.

The poor screw head was so mangled that she doubted that she was ever going to free it. "Fucking cowboy REME bastard" she muttered before turning back to the table and rifling through the assortment of tools and selecting another screwdriver and a hammer. She settled the screwdriver in what was left of the head of the screw and brought down the hammer on its end, like a chisel.

"Whoa there!" Fingers caught her hand just as she raised it above her head again, readying to strike a blow on the screwdriver. "What the hell is going on?"

"This is how I do DIY" Zoe twisted her wrist, freeing it from his grasp

"It's how you bloody electrocute yourself" he tried again to take the hammer off her, sighing she gave it up.

"The thermostat is buggered. I need to get the casing off to look at it, but screw head is stripped, I'm just trying to make a notch so I can unscrew it" aggravated, she waved her hands as she spoke, the end of the screwdriver coming dangerously close to Fingers' face at one point. He ducked out of the way before gently wrapping his hand over hers and taking the screwdriver from it before she could do more damage.

"Let me" he said softly

"I can bloody well do it." Zoe tried to take the screwdriver back.

"I didn't say you couldn't, but just let me, OK?" He nodded slightly, giving her a slight smile. "Then you can tell me about the fucking REME bastard you were cursing just now"

"You don't want to know"

Fingers squinted at the problem screw, it's head a flattened tangle of metal "No, I don't suppose I do" he muttered. "Have you got an elastic band?" Zoe turned to look for one in the jumble of junk that littered the table before passing one to him.

As he fiddled with the screw he paused a moment half glancing at Zoe behind him. "I'm sorry. You know, about before" he shrugged one shoulder, turning his attention back to the thermostat "I don't...well that's not happened before." He frowned, and then carried on fiddling.

"What was it?" Zoe asked

"What was what?" He tried to turn the screw, the screwdriver failing to grip.

"What happened?"

Fingers was quiet for a moment as he paused, intent on the wall, "Nothing. Weird dream is all"

"About?" Zoe asked without expecting a decent response.

"It's not important" Fingers grunted, the screw relenting and turning marginally. "Pliers?" He extended a hand in Zoe's direction and after a brief search she passed him a set. He worked silently, a few mutterings under his breath as Zoe watched on. The only noise was the halting tick of the kitchen clock. She could follow his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the flex of the muscles in his forearms, the curve of his bicep, the turn of his shoulder as he worked to free the screw. She held back a sigh. Every movement, the single minded concentration on the job in hand was a wall to deflect any attempt to get him to open up. It was pointless. And what for? This was for a good time, not a long time, wasn't it? Tomorrow he would be gone. A Christmas diversion packed away along with the decorations. It was for the best. Time to buckle down to life and get through the next storm headed her way. Her time in this posting was running out, she could sense it. No matter the outcome with Harris sooner or later it was going to make her position untenable, she had better start looking for the next opportunity and someone riding shotgun was not ideal.

God knows where that idea had come from. She shook her head to clear the thought away. She had never found relationships worked, and besides she wasn't interested in anything like that. Her eyes travelled over the long lean lines of his body, the way he leant into the job, a sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders in the ridiculous heat of the kitchen. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, a quiet expletive escaping from him as the pliers failed to keep purchase on the screw head. She was aware of her breath becoming shallower, and the desire for him unfurling inside her again. The hitch in her breath, the flip in her stomach and the warmth pooling in her groin reminded her exactly what this was.

"Coffee?" She asked, turning away from him and looking for a distraction from the thoughts that crowded her head.

Fingers grunted "Tea, ta. God this thing is bloody wedged, I reckon the thread has gone too."

"Probably. REME bastard was tighter than a camel's chuff in a sandstorm." Zoe flicked on the kettle, trying to distract herself from the diversion across the room. Talk about your exes, that usually sends them packing she thought. "That screw was probably issued before the Falklands. 'Nowt wrong w'i it' he used to say. Should have known, bloody Yorkshire knobhead." She squeezed the tea bag against the side of the mug with the spoon.

An arm stole around her waist, and a damp warm body pressed into her back, pushing her toward the counter. She dropped her hands to brace herself against it. "Can we stop talking about him now?" Fingers whispered against her ear. His hand splayed over her stomach as his lips found the side of her neck. The buzz of desire she had felt earlier kicked up a notch as she tilted her head back and pressed herself into him. He was like a drug, intoxicating, rushing through her bloodstream, overwhelming all her senses. His hands gently began to push at the waistband of her pyjamas tugging them over her hips as his mouth travelled to her shoulder. His fingers playing over her hip bones, his touch an agonising tease just too light to tickle. "Do you remember that last time in Kenya? Do you remember how I made you come?" His hands moved down further dipping beneath her waistband then retreating, teasing and retreating over again. Zoe closed her eyes and dropped her head, summoning all her willpower to keep still. "You have no idea how much I wanted you. How much it took to walk away." He paused, she could feel his breath on her skin as he chuckled "Well, I think it was more of a hobble actually"

Zoe smiled, reaching up behind her, her hand stroking his close cropped head as he continued to murmur against her skin. "I couldn't get you out of my head. Those weeks I hoped you'd find me again. I felt sure you would"

"Are you suggesting I'm predictable?" Zoe turned and he leant in closer, pressing her against the cabinet.

"Maybe it's me; maybe I'm irresistible." he gave her a half smile, narrowing his eyes as he crouched down, his hands once again tugging at her waistband.

"Whatever you say"

He lowered his head, gently placing his lips against her hip bone as his hands moved down her thighs. She felt the scratch of his stubble against the skin of her belly as he worked across to the other hip. "It's been worth it. All of it. I don't want one bad dream to cock that up." his eyes flicked up to hers and beneath the lust that darkened them she could make out his sincerity. Resting his chin below her belly button a grin spread over his face "shall we skip the brew then?"

* * *

"I still don't understand how everything is suddenly all back on" Zoe was searching through a drawer, pulling out pairs of socks, squinting at them before returning them to the drawer. "Yesterday everything was off. She hadn't heard from him in days. Ahh!" She held a pair aloft in triumph before throwing them across the room. Fingers caught them with one hand.

"Does it matter?" He looked across the expanse of crumpled sheets and the duvet kicked into a lumpy pile at the foot of the unmade bed. "Whatever it was has been sorted"

"There's no way that was sorted this quickly. It couldn't be. You didn't see her yesterday. I've never seen her that cut up. I hope she's not going to let him get away with it"

Fingers sighed "Maybe he apologised."

"That's going to have to have been some fucking apology. To piss off and leave her with no word for days?"

"Whatever it is or isn't don't you think it's best to let them get on with it?"

"Oh stop being so bloody reasonable. Don't you at least have an opinion?" Zoe pulled on a pair of jeans, tugging at the buttons in exasperation.

"Of course I have an opinion, but it don't count for anything. Right now I'm more worried that I'm headed to a party wearing half the stores worth of cold weather gear. I'm going to boil."

"Trust me, you're going to need it. There's a reason most of us end up in the garden at one of Charles' parties. My tip is to dress for it."

"I wouldn't wear half this stuff if I was going out on exercise" he held up a pair of long johns "how come you have all this shit?"

"It just sort of accumulates" Zoe shrugged

Fingers held the long johns up against his waist. The acres of fabric looked as though it was enough to fit around him twice. "Fat knacker, was he?" He raised an eyebrow, grinning, although the smile didn't completely reach his eyes.

"I'm a lady" Zoe walked around the bed and kissed him briefly on the lips "I don't tell"

"You're no bloody lady" Fingers raised his eyebrow and nodded towards the bed, moving in to steal another kiss. Zoe swatted him away, wriggling out of his embrace.

"You're right. They're my brother's actually. And yes, he is a fat knacker. Wear them or not, just don't complain when you're cold later tonight."

* * *

The doors to the house were flung open, the light spilling onto a small patio with a tarpaulin rigged over it to keep any rain off. Most of the party goers were huddled in small groups, trying as best they could to be far away from the house, and therefore the music, which was blaring from inside.

Zoe made her way towards the drinks table in the corner and grabbed a couple of beers before making her way back towards Fingers. Taking the bottle from her, he nodded a silent thank you, and placed his arm casually around her shoulder.

"I see what you mean about not wanting to be in the house" he leant in close, his lips against her ear so she could hear him over the music. Zoe took a swig from her drink and nodded, conversation was hard work when you had to shout over the music, the bass reverberating up through the ground under their feet. Pulling her closer he dipped his head to her ear again "this music is shit. I hoped I wouldn't have to hear the boss' music ever again."

"Molly usually has it under control in an hour or so. She calls it the shock and awe phase of the party"

"Shock and bloody awful more like" he grinned down at her before taking another swig of his drink. His corner of his eye crinkled as he gave her a ghost of a lopsided grin. Desire flared inside her once more, if anything it had been stoked into a brighter flame after a day with him. For now she tried not to question it; enjoying the warmth of his body close to hers as she tried to talk with some of Charles' reserve colleagues through a mixture of shouting and lip reading. She spotted Molly across the garden with Smithy, she hadn't spoken to her since they arrived, merely nodding at each other across the garden.

Somewhere from the depths of the house the music was turned down and a collective cheer went up from the garden.

"Who the fuck turned that down?" Charles shouted, brandishing a set of oversized tongs from his position behind the barbecue.

"Someone with taste, boss" came a reply from a huddle of people nearest the house.

"You wouldn't know good music if it bit you on the arse, Penn. Molly! Did you turn that down, Molly?" Charles shouted towards the void of the house.

"I ain't in the house" Molly answered and a collective snigger rippled through the party guests. "Keep your hair on, I'll go take a butchers"

Sensing an opportunity to grab Molly alone Zoe handed her drink to Fingers and followed her inside. The cozily furnished room was empty, and despite the drop in the volume of the music it was still too loud to hold a conversation. Molly flicked off the music and another cheer went up from outside. Molly giggled "His music taste ain't never going to get better" She fiddled with the mp3 player, and music once again filled the room but at a lower volume. An indistinct shout was heard from outside but Molly ignored it, fiddling with the controls on the front of the stereo before looking at the backs of each speaker positioned either side of the patio doors.

"Looks like one of the speakers has packed up" she said heading back to the stereo. "Probably committed suicide rather than play any more of Charles 'shit music "

"Shame" Zoe grinned at her.

"Ain't it?" Molly's eyes twinkled cheekily.

Zoe reached out and squeezed Molly's hand "All OK Molls?" Molly's gaze dropped for a moment, and when she looked back up Zoe could see tears were starting to brim in her eyes. She gave Zoe's fingers a light squeeze back before dropping her hand. "They're better". She gave a weak lopsided smile. "He came back to me."

Zoe took a deep breath ready to launch into the speech that had been flying around her head all afternoon but then paused, remembering Fingers' words "You know where I am, alright?" she gave Molly a brief nod. "As a friend. No more Padre stuff, I promise"

"I think our agenda's gonna be taken up with you and laughing boy out there" Molly deflected Zoe's concern with an incline of her head towards the garden.

"It's just a bit of fun Molly"

"For you or him?"

"Both I hope. Anyway, he's back to Bulford tomorrow"

"Bulford ain't that far away, you know"

"It's just fun"

"Yeah, you tell yourself that. Well, until the clap clinic calls, that is" she grinned.

"Antibiotics are a wonderful thing" Zoe nudged her, "he'll be over it in a week or so"

* * *

At seven minutes to midnight Charles made his excuses and catching Fingers' eye he gave a curt nod before taking up position just outside the patio doors. Behind him the music dimmed, and then switched off. The conversation bubbling around him quieted, as everyone turned to look in his direction.

"Right, listen up you bunch of ungrateful bastards, before New Year is upon us I need to share a few thoughts with you." Charles' voice rang out over the garden. He may be addressing a party and not his men, but his tone, even when it was casual, hadn't stopped being commanding. His voice was clear, barely changed from the voice that had rung out across the dusty parade grounds of Bastion, or the craggy peaks of Helmand. Only the slightest fuzziness of the odd word here and there belied that he was a few drinks over his limit.

"Now I know that everyone here spends their whole year just waiting to enjoy yet another James and Dawes party. The company, the booze" cheers broke out and Charles lifted his hand to silence them "the excellent music," jeers and a few beer cans were thrown at him "and not forgetting the exceptionally handsome host" the roars grew deafening. "However, I have some sad news. This will be our last ever party," Silence descended over the group, Charles paused to allow the tension to build "as James and Dawes! Next year, providing you've all been good of course, the party will be held by Mr and Mrs James."

There was a perceptible beat of silence as his words took a moment to filter through heads fuzzed by alcohol and ears that were still ringing from music and conversation, and then came the roar of approval, rippling through the party goers. Somewhere from back of the garden Molly was pushed to the front, and reluctantly she made her way towards Charles, his arms holding her tightly by his side as she tried to shy away from the attention. Blushing crimson to the roots of her hair she glanced up at Charles. The grin on his face widened with the crescendo of voices, he glanced down, catching her eye and threw her the smallest of winks, hard to notice as his eyes crinkled with his smile.

Is that your proposal boss? Piped up one of Charles' reservists. "Yeah, coz it's a bit shit" added another.

Charles raised his arm, to quieten his guests "I know, you're all expecting me to go down on one knee, but truth be told, it was Dawsey here who caved first." his arm stayed firm around her shoulders tucked her against his side "Asking; no begging me to make an honest woman of her." Molly wriggled against his grip, looking up incredulously as his version of events. He continued to grin, revelling in the attention.

"Ain't you supposed to be the one doing the asking?" Fingers yelled, earning a dig in the ribs from Zoe.

"Fingers, Fingers, Fingers. This is the 21st century. Truthfully, I was about to ask, but Molly got there first,..." he paused a smile creeping across his face, "and as every gentleman knows, you should always let the lady get there first."

"Oi Oi!" A voice in the throng yelled, accompanied by laughter.

Molly blushed a deeper shade of red. "Ruddy prannet" she muttered barely audible over the swell of voices. Charles never relinquished his hold on her, she had stopped trying to escape the attention, his joy was infectious and she let herself be swept along in the shower of heckling.

"What did you say?" he asked, leaning down.

Molly raised her lips to his ear to make herself heard over the din "Bloody plonker"

He held her gaze, brown eyes twinkling in the dim light, his face creased and entirely happy with a grin that spread ear to ear. Dipping his head he spoke softly in her ear, "I think you mean yes."

* * *

 **1st January**

The daylight had no business being so bright. It pierced a chink in the curtains and settled across Molly's face, sneaking under her eyelids. She had done her best to avoid it, turning over and throwing the duvet over her head, but it had grown so stuffy she had had to throw it off so she could breathe. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt swollen and like it might stick to her teeth unless she drank some water. She rolled over, her shoulders following her hips across the mattress, her head moving last. A volley of lights danced at the back of her eyeballs and a piercing pain crushed against her skull.

"I'm gonna die" she muttered, closing her eyes and waiting for the pitching and rolling of her stomach to subside. A clammy sweat swept over her body as she willed herself to keep as still as possible. Next to her Charles groaned and turned over, the mattress rolling under his weight.

"You gotta stop moving" Molly squeaked her dry lips cracking with the effort. Charles didn't even grunt, he was fast asleep again, oblivious to her pain. She laid still, listening to his breathing, shallow and nasal, until it caught somewhere at the back of his throat and a small snore started to rattle from him. The snore grew louder, and each exhale grated on her nerves until she couldn't bear it any longer. Ignoring her thumping head she quickly extended her leg under the covers, pushing against the back of his thigh. Charles moved slightly, his breath catching and deepening, the snore subsiding. Molly enjoyed the momentary peace before the familiar rattling started in the back of his throat again.

Too awake to fall back asleep Molly tentatively sat up. Her head was splitting, every movement setting off a wave of nausea and a dull spark of colours behind her eyes. Glancing across at the bedside table she thanked her drunken last night self for the glass of water she didn't remember putting there. Gulping it down, she revelled in its sweetness. Draining the last of it, she sat back and closed her eyes, feeling her body hydrate as the minutes passed.

She must have been dozing, propped up against the pillows, the next thing she was aware of was the heavy weight of Charles on her legs as he learnt across her.

"You drank all the water" he groaned.

"It's on my side" Molly replied. "Go get your own"

"That was my water. I only put it there because I had to manhandle your drunk carcass into bed"

"Bollocks you did"

"You were passed out when I finally got rid of the last of them. By the time I had you awake enough to take off your jeans I couldn't be arsed to move it. The least you could do is get me some more." he tilted his head as he looked at her, raising an eyebrow and giving her a little frown.

"Jesus, no need to turn on the puppy eyes." Molly pushed him off her legs, and swinging herself out of bed she made her way to the bathroom.

"You aren't getting it from the bathroom tap are you?" he called after her. A few moments passed before she came back carrying a full glass of water "Charles, you've drunk out of ditches on Salisbury Plain, I'm sure you'll survive a cup of water from the bathroom tap. If you don't like it you know where the kitchen tap is" she plonked the cup down on the table before climbing back under the covers.

A few moments later Charles' arm snuck around her waist and he pulled himself against her body. "I love it when you get all moody over nothing" he whispered dropping a kiss behind her ear "It's good to see I can still push those buttons"

Molly wriggled away from him "If you ain't gonna drink that water you can go downstairs and get me a cuppa" Charles chuckled, enjoying her bluster at his teasing.

* * *

Molly sat, nursing the cup of tea resting on her knee, the duvet scrunched around her legs. The liquid sloshed a little as the bed dipped and Charles climbed in beside her.

"Better now?"

She tentatively took a sip. The warm liquid settled in her stomach and didn't show any signs of wanting to come back up. She nodded. "Better"

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, with nothing but the sound of each other's breath for company.

"Good night?" asked Charles.

"Yeah" Molly sipped her tea. "Smithy seemed a bit quiet though, considering"

"Considering what?"

"Considering Zoe turned up with Fingers. Normally he's in there like a shot when there's some ammunition."

"Yes, that was interesting" Charles blew on his coffee "did you know about it?"

"I had a bit of a scooby. She was asking questions the other week. Zo likes to think she's subtle, but she ain't all that. She reckons is just a bit of fun and it'll all be over when he goes back."

Charles scoffed "Yeah, right"

"That's what I said"

He grinned at her over the rim of his coffee mug, holding her gaze before taking a sip. She grinned back.

"What?"

"Nothing" he carried on grinning

"What is it?"

After taking another sip Charles carefully put his cup down, shifting himself slightly so he angled his body towards hers.

"You didn't mind me announcing everything last night then?"

Molly gulped down a mouthful of hot tea, trying to suppress the coughing fit it set off.

"I know we talked about doing things differently"

Composing herself she replied, "Yeah, technically you ain't actually asked me so don't you think it's a bit previous to tell everyone"

"I thought about it." Charles shifted closer and drew a deep breath "I was going to, I had it all planned. I was going to ask when we were at yours, with your family all around. Then your Dad got the hump and stormed off, and,...well things didn't go to plan" he skipped over the details, still reluctant to broach the subject "but when I was back in Bath I realised something. I realised that it didn't matter. None of this who asks who matters. We're doing this because we want to. Who and how and what was said doesn't count for anything. Because it's just a question and I don't need to ask it any more than you do. We want this, both of us, so we decide. Together."

Molly looked down over the scrunched and crumpled duvet tucked against her legs; the dust motes floating lazily in the pale winter sun that streamed through the window. Time slowed, the silence of the room seemed to wrap around her as she realised the truth of his words. There was no need to ask or respond. Spending the rest of her life with him was never something she had questioned, not deep down. She had known it for years. Since they had stood on that bridge in the searing Afghan sun, the dust in her throat, the adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream. She had known then as much as she knew now. That this was it.

Her stillness and silence threw Charles, mistaking it for reticence. He shifted, feeling uncomfortable, worrying he had misjudged the whole situation. Perhaps he had been wrong; maybe she did want a big gesture, the full movie script; down on on one knee in a crowded place. Perhaps this was just too low key, not special enough.

"Molly", his voice was tentative but it cut through the stillness of the room. "Are you OK?"

When she raised her eyes he could see tears brimming in them, caught on the edges of her lashes, not quite able to fall. She couldn't form the words she wanted to say and get them past the lump in her throat, instead she nodded, struggling to keep her emotions in check enough to smile weakly.

Charles let out the breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding, in one long shaking exhalation. The relief he felt that he hadn't misjudged her or himself seemed to flood from his body. He pulled Molly to him, feeling her arms stealing around him as he held her tight.

"Oh, thank god. I thought….." he didn't finish, his lips pressed against the top of her hair, smelling faintly of smoke.

"I meant it" he muttered softly against her, "I don't feel emasculated by not asking. The end result is what's important, and that's all I care about"

Molly pulled away a little, "I dunno if it's because I'm hungover or coz you're using words I don't understand, but I don't have a bleedin clue what you're banging on about"

Charles glanced down at her "Well some people might think that the man has to do the asking, but I don't feel any less of a man for being asked." He shrugged "my cojones are big enough to take being bossed around by a Doris"

"Oi!" Molly prodded his side causing him to flinch "Cheeky sod. Hang on, how do you cojones feel about buying a ring, coz I have me limits you know."

"Wait there" he kissed her fleetingly before turning over and throwing the covers off.

"Are you getting me a refill?" she teased holding out her empty mug. Charles pulled a t shirt over his head. He glanced back and grinned, his hair ruffled and sticking up slightly from the movement.

* * *

A second mug of tea was placed on the bedside table, the steam rose steadily from it, unnoticed by Molly who watched Charles walking casually across the room.

"It's brassic downstairs, someone left the window open." He climbed under the covers, his cold feet touched Molly's leg and she yelped from shock.

"Brassic's what we're gonna be with the heating on and windows open. For someone who reckons they talk proper you ain't got much of a clue"

Charles laughed at her mock indignation, cuddling up against her, trying to get her to warm his feet.

"Come on, warm me up" he wrapped his long legs around her.

"You're gonna need bed socks at this rate, old man. Or maybe some of them tartan slippers what Nan gets" she wriggled away and picked up her tea. "No more" she held her finger up to him "you don't want the tea all over the covers" she made a show of blowing on the warm liquid before taking a sip.

Charles sat up, leaning against a pillow propped against the headboard. He drew Molly towards him until she leant against him, her back against his torso, her head resting against his shoulder. He sighed contentedly as she slowly sipped her tea. Neither spoke.

As Molly drained the cup Charles' arm stole around, taking it from her. He replaced the cup with his hand, slowly he entwined his fingers with hers, gently turning and running his fingers through hers, allowing the tips to slowly bump over her knuckles, circling the bones of her wrist before stroking down to her fingertips.

Reaching down he lifted a small black velvet box and rested on her knee. Still holding her hand he spoke softly, Molly could feel his words rumble through his chest.

"Don't get excited. I get paid bugger all and I need to think of dress regulations" he said gruffly.

Molly spent a moment staring at the box. She reached out tentatively, lifting the lid slowly. Charles took the ring and gently pushed it onto her finger. A small diamond glittered in a circle of gold, set in a white gold band. Molly, still struggling to speak watched the light glitter on the small stone.

"This" Charles pointed to the diamond "was my grandmothers. This," his fingers circled the gold setting "and these" he touched the stud in her ear " were from your Nan, and this", he stroked the band "is from me. A little bit of everyone's history at the start of our future seems about right, don't you think?"

"It's beautiful" Molly touched it, almost in wonder. It wasn't flashy, it looked grown up, unpretentious. Subtle without being delicate, solid without being over the top. "Perfect"

"You know what Molly" he gripped her hand tightly, his fingers entwined with hers. Bringing her hand up he gently kissed her knuckle just below the ring "we're going to be fucking awesome."


End file.
